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THE 



PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, 



from its ^outfj to its Source: 



WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF ITS TRIBUTARIES. 



By WILLIAM DAVIES. 



"Et terrain Hesperiam venies : ubi Lydius, arva 
Inter opima virum, leni fluit agmine Tybris." — 

Virgil, Am. ii. 781. 

[" And you shall come to the Hesperian land, 
Where Lydian Tiber flows with gentle stream, 
By fruitful fields of men."] 




LONDON: 
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW & SEARLE. 

1873. 



[The right of Translation is reserved.} 



LONDON : 

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, 

STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 



/ 



PREFACE, 



T T is somewhat singular, in these days of much travelling, 
A that the course of the Tiber, the most classic, of all 
streams, should either never have been completely explored 
or else no account should have been given of it in its entirety, 
either in the Italian or English language, as far as I am 
aware. This is all the more remarkable as it is not only 
crowded with interesting associations at every turn, but also 
that its course embraces an unsurpassed continuity -of the 
most beautiful and varied scenery that is to be found even 
in Italy, the favoured land of beauty, poetry, and song. 

It is several years since the project was formed which is 
here carried out. It was first intended that it should have 
been a joint work between Mr. C. I. Hemans and my- 
self ; Mr. Hemans having been a long resident in Italy and 
a close student of its historical antiquities. This, however, 
Mr. Hemans' uncertain health and numerous engagements 
prevented him from undertaking. The plan was altered. I 
took upon myself the task of writing the whole book, look- 
ing to his large local knowledge for indications and confir- 
mations where my own was deficient or uncertain. He has 
also been of very ample use in directing me to authorities. 
Although the substance of this work is otherwise my own 
it would be impossible to overrate the value of the assistance 
he has rendered to me in these respects. 



VI 



PREFACE. 



Although we were both familiar with a good part of the 
river previously to the journey here described, yet on 
this occasion we conscientiously made the whole tour of it, 
from its mouth to its source, in order that nothing should be 
omitted in the account of its course. The journey took 
about five weeks, leaving out the excursions made from 
Rome. We were accompanied by two artist friends, one 
the length of the whole journey, and the other from Perugia ; 
both of whom lent the aid of their pencils to illustrate our 
progress. 

Though not very easy to define, my plan of selection in 
writing this book has been a very special and precise one to 
myself. It may be indicated by the term picturesque. I 
have not attempted to write a guide book or a history. I 
have thought it enough to have chosen those events and 
circumstances which group themselves about my subject 
wherever their importance and interest may have made 
their introduction desirable from a picturesque or illus- 
trative point of view. I have only given as much personal 
adventure as might serve to string my narrative upon. A 
few old stories will be found here, associated or connected- 
with the ancient river, which I hope it will not be thought 
are repeated once too often. I did not think, however, 
when treating of the Tiber as a subject that this was the 
place to omit them. The pictures given from local historians 
of the mediaeval condition of some of the Tiberine towns, 
and country, will, I believe, be new to most English readers. 
The chapter upon the popular songs of central Italy will 
also probably afford an insight into a quite fresh field of 
literature, as I do not know that any of them have been 
brought forward before in the English language. 

As regards the illustrations, it was intended that my 
artist friends should have prepared their own drawings for 
the engraver, had not their absence from England pre- 



PREFACE. vii 

vented them from doing so. They have no cause, however, 
to complain of the way in which their sketches or drawings 
have been copied. For myself, I must record my special 
obligations to the engraver of my little tail-pieces, which 
have been reproduced with perhaps as much fidelity as the 
nature of the material will allow. 

In conclusion, I can only say that I have left no known 
source of information unexamined, nor any spot within my 
limits unexplored, likely to furnish matter of interest. If it 
were not too presumptuous I should express the hope that 
my reader may find some analogous pleasure in reading my 
book to that which I had in making the journey of. which 
it gives the account. 

It may be mentioned that the terms "right" and "left," 
occurring in these pages, refer to the upward journey. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introductory . . . . . . . i 

From Ostia to Rome . ... . .5 

Rome. From the Protestant Cemetery to the Tower 

of Anguillara . . . . . 28 

Rome. From the Island to the Pons Triumphalis . 57 

Rome. From the Bridge of St. Angelo to the Porta 
del popolo . . . . . 75 

From Rome to Fiden^e . . . . .122 

From Fiden^e to Scorano . . . . 162 

Popular Songs of the Tiberine District . . 193 

From Scorano to Tod 1 . . . . 21 1 

Perugia, Assisi, and the River Clitumnus . . 266 

From Perugia to the Source .... 306 



b 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



St. Peter's and the Vatican, from the Banks of the 

Tiber. Drawn by P. SKELTON, from a photograph Frontispiece 
Map showing the Course of the Tiber . to face page i 

BORGHETTO. By R. P. LEITCH, from a photograph „ 213 

CivitaBagnorea. By R. P. Leitch, from a drawing 

by Edgar Barclay . . . „ 233 

The Tiber, near Perugia. By R. P. Leitch, from 

a drawing by Elihu Vedder . . „ 312 



PAGE 

St. Peter's, from the Aventine. By the Author . vii 

Head of the Trajan Canal, near Ostia. By the Author . 4 
Castle at Ostia. By R. P. Leitch, from a vignette by the 

Author . . . . . .18 

Island of the Tiber. By P. Skelton, from a photograph 58 

Castle of St. Angelo do. do. 76 
The Pincian Hill, from the Villa Borghese. By the 

Author . . . . . . .121 

Ti'voli. By P. Skelton, from a photograph . . 139 

Veii, FROM the Campagna, from a vignette by the Author . 163 

Soracte. By the Author . . . . 2 io 

The Falls of Terni. By P. Skelton, from a vignette by 

the Author . . . . . . 223 



xii 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

The Tiber from Orte. By R. P. Leitch, from a drawing 

by Edgar Barclay ..... 226 
Todi. From a drawing by Edgar Barclay . . .258 

Orvieto. By the Author .... 265 

Temple of the Clitumnus. By P, Skelton, from a 

photograph ....... 303 

Church and Convent of St. Francis, at Assise By the 

Author ...... 305 

Lake Thrasimene. Site of Battle. From a vignette by 

the Author ...... 309 

Near the Source of the Tiber. From a drawing by 

Edgar Barclay . . • . . 331 

Caprese. By P. Skelton, from a vignette by the Author . 334 



v The whole of the Illustrations are engraved by J. D. Cooper. 



v Erratum 

Page 116, fourth line from the bottom,/^ Caracalla read Caligula. 



THE 



PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. 

CHAPTER I. 

INTRO DUC TOR V. 

BEFORE entering on the more special description of 
the Tiber and its course I will here give my readers 
a few general facts concerning it. 

We are told that the Tiber was first called Albula on 
account of the light colour of its waters ; but that afterwards 
it took the name of Tiberinus from a certain Alban king, 
who, being slain on its banks, was carried down by the 
flood. It probably was only called u white " by a figure of 
speech — just as Virgil called it " Cceruleus Tibris " from the 
hue reflected on its waters. The tawny-yellow or chestnut 
colour that really belongs to it, and serves to distinguish 
it so specially in the lowlands, is communicated by vast 
quantities of earthy deposit, of which it contains about 
seventeen per cent, at times of flood, gathered during its 
course from the regions of Umbria. It takes its rise in 
the central Apennines, where they trend towards the 
Adriatic, in the direction of Urbino, on Monte Fumajolo, 
almost within sight of Rimini. It is joined in its course 
by many tributaries, which have been variously numbered 
according to what has been thought worthy of the name. 
The principal ones are the Anio, the Nar, the Chiana, and 
the Topino, into which the Clitumnus discharges itself. 
/ B 



2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. I. 



It flows in a south-westerly direction. Its whole length 
is about two hundred and sixty miles, its breadth below 
Rome about two hundred yards. Its current flows at the 
rate of about three miles an hour. Its elevation at Rome 
is eighteen to twenty feet above the sea-level. It quickly 
narrows in the upward direction ; and at Ponte Felice, near 
Borghetto, not quite sixty miles from its mouth, is now 
unnavigable for large vessels. It has always been subject 
to disastrous overflowings ; records of which abound in every 
historical account of it from the earliest times. Frequent 
mention is made in earlier epochs of vast numbers of 
serpents left by these floods wherever they spread, which 
sometimes added the calamity of pestilence to that of 
deluge. It would appear from this that the fauna of the 
contiguous districts must be changed, since they are now 
seen no longer : perhaps owing to its denudation of wood. 
The aspect of its neighbourhood must have altered greatly 
from the time when the wide Campagna stretched its 
breadth of undulating country in the pride of culture from 
its shores, and its sides were lined with groves, villas, and 
mansions from Ostia to Otricoli, a distance of almost 
seventy miles from its mouth. Some have supposed that 
its bed has been raised since the historic period ; this, how- 
ever, can scarcely have been the case to any appreciable 
extent, as the position of the earliest bridges marks pretty 
much the same water-level as that which must have pre- 
vailed upwards of two thousand years back. 

During the Middle Ages the water of the Tiber formed 
the principal drink of the Romans. It was borne for sale 
through the city on the backs of asses. The mother of 
Cola di Rienzo was one of these water-vendors. So much 
was it valued above other waters that the Popes Clement 
the Seventh and Paul the Third never travelled far without 
taking a supply of it with them. One can scarcely imagine 
this muddy fluid to be preferred ; unless, indeed, there were 
some remnant of the ancient reverence for the stream still 
lingering to a later period. 



Chap. I. 



INTRODUCTION. 



3 



Its current is a dangerous one. It goes seething through 
the Campagna like a boiling caldron. He must be a 
clever swimmer who would breast its treacherous eddies 
and spreading whirlpools in safety. 

How many memories rise up in the mind as we look at 
it, and think of the splendid triumphs it has witnessed and 
of the dark deeds performed on its banks ! It was to its 
shores that legend sent the heroic Hercules to wash the 
Iberian heifers after having slain the monster Geryon. It 
saw ^Eneas pass to deeds of valour and glory when the 
saffron-coloured morning rose in the sky and the well- 
wooded banks were vocal with the songs of many birds. 
Hither the frenzied Bacchanalians used to rush at dead of 
night with frantic cries and wild contortions — raving women 
with floating hair — plunging inextinguishable torches into 
the stream, symbols of the unquenchable passions that tore 
and consumed them. Here the sick slaves and abandoned 
children were left to perish unpityingly, the miserable 
victims of cruelty and superstition. Borne upon its tawny 
bosom the consul ^Emilius entered Rome in a royal galley 
of sixteen tiers of oars, proud in the gorgeous spoils of the 
conquered Macedonia, when the whole city flowed out to 
meet him. Its bed received the body of the flagrant and 
scandalous emperor Heliogabalus drunk with crime and 
loathsome through every vice, after he had been massacred 
by a maddened populace and dragged about the streets 
of Rome with shouts of ferocious joy. It was into its 
waters that the ashes of the noble champion of freedom 
and r truth, Arnold of Brescia, were cast, one more victim 
to the cause of unappreciated philanthropy and liberty. 
By the Tiber Pope Gregory the Eleventh returned to'Rome, 
together with the functionaries of the papal court, in all the 
splendour of ecclesiastical pomp, after the seventy- two years' 
exile of the papacy at Avignon in Provence, landing at 
St. Paul's amidst the acclamations of vast crowds, whence 
he was escorted triumphantly into the city. These and a 
thousand other memories seem to be written on its turbid 

B 2 



4 



wrinkles as they flow down to the sea, bearing everything 
into oblivion, and veiling the dark secrets of which it has 
been the unwearied witness through the long course of 
unnumbered centuries. 

But it is time to commence our journey. 




HEAD OF THE TRAJAN CANAL, NEAR OSTIA. 



Chap. II. 



( 5 ) 



CHAPTER II. 

FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 

WHEN I went to Italy, in the spring of eighteen 
hundred and seventy-one, for the special purpose 
of exploring the Tiber, it was but supplementary to a long 
previous residence in that country, which had already made 
me acquainted with a good part of its course. In the first 
instance, I took up my quarters in Rome, revisiting the 
various places in the neighbourhood ; some of them more 
than once. Whilst there I was able to go down the 
stream to Ostia, in a steamer that leaves Rome weekly for 
the mouth of the river, for a short time during the spring. 
On this occasion, and subsequently, I was much indebted 
to Mr. Welby, the proprietor of the navigation of the river, 
for much kindness, courtesy, and information. If the 
Caesars w T ere to come back, what would they say to an 
Englishman being in virtual possession of the stream they 
reverenced so sacredly and guarded so jealously ! Yet such 
at present is the case. 

Early one morning, just when the sun was throwing his 
first rays over the top of the Aventine, H. and I hastened 
to- the Ripa Grande, and soon after found ourselves steam- 
ing down the river at a pretty good speed, owing to the 
rapidity of the current. Our party was a very animated 
one, consisting altogether of Italians, who were going for a 
day's run to the sea-side, or to spend a week there with their 
families. A plethoric band did its best to keep up the 



6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. II. 



spirits of the company by blowing its loudest. Mirth and 
hilarity prevailed on every hand. Meals were improvised 
and every one seemed gay and happy. 

Agreeably to the plan of this volume, I shall not detain 
the reader during this part of the journey, but take the 
stream in its upward course from Ostia. 

In two hours we found ourselves at Fiumicino, a strong 
wind blowing from the sea, and rolling the white breakers 
far on the strand. 

Immediately on our arrival we left the crowd of holiday 
makers, taking our way across the Sacred Island to Ostia. 

The Tiber enters the Mediterranean by two mouths, the 
one below Ostia, which is its natural one, the other at 
Fiumicino (which we had just navigated), an artificial canal 
formed by the Roman Emperor Trajan in order to avoid the 
shoals and sand-banks which obstructed its natural passage. 
These two outlets are distant from each other about three 
miles. There was a still earlier cutting made by Claudius 
from a point higher up the river, which flowed into the sea 
more to the north, the silting up of which made the present 
one necessary ; it led into a port long since left inland by 
the retiring sea, now only showing a few ruins near the 
hamlet of Porto. The irregular angle formed by the two 
streams is called the Isola Sacra, or Sacred Island, once 
famous for the worship of Venus, its fertile summer pastures 
and abundant winter roses. Now its aspect must be vastly 
changed. It is a dreary desert of marshy ground, over- 
grown with the ash-pale asphodel, rampant reeds and lean, 
bristling rushes ; roamed by herds of half-wild oxen with 
enormous horns, which eyed us menacingly as we passed, as 
if resenting our intrusion on their territory. Here and there 
a lonely tower or wall rises, forlorn witness of the desola- 
tion around. To the right of the river is the ancient town 
of Ostia, once on the sea, but now withdrawn far from it, 
buried in ruin, choked with thistles, hidden under green 
corn-fields, which the wind waves over the graves of a 
thousand households. Everything seems to mourn ; whilst 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



7 



the sadness is made still more touching by the numerous 
streets, temples and houses which modern excavations have 
made bare, showing them pretty much as they were left 
hundreds of years ago. A few of the most important and 
interesting may be examined. 

Turning a little from the river, we first observe the naked 
but substantial walls of what has been supposed a temple of 
Jupiter of about the second century. A very noble build- 
ing it must once have been, for on the surface of its brick- 
work are yet to be seen the holes by means of which it was 
covered with marbles. A tessellated road extending for a 
long distance leads us to a wide and imposing flight of steps 
which were once flanked by Corinthian columns-— they are 
now despoiled of their covering, doubtless a costly one — 
to the threshold, across the whole breadth of which a solid 
monolith of African marble is laid, about eighteen feet 
long and four wide, probably being at least as thick. The 
interior consists of a vast hall or chamber, almost square, 
with niches at the sides for statues. At the extreme end 
facing the entrance, the altar still remains in a despoiled 
condition, above which is a raised tribune with cells on each 
side. Over this altar must have stood the image or statue 
of the presiding deity of the place. There are no means of 
lighting from without excepting through the doorway — a 
characteristic common to the temples of both Greece and 
Rome, in which, perhaps, a solemn and mysterious gloom 
may have been desired. Beneath this hall is a subterranean 
chamber supposed to have been used as a place of prepara- 
tion for the priests before the celebration of the rites of 
worship. At one side of the temple, and exposed to the 
open air, is a peribolos or columned enclosure for practising 
gymnastic exercises or games. In it are to be seen some 
magnificent fragments of marble architectural mouldings. 

As the temples of Ostia represent several distinctive 
forms of religious worship, a slight sketch of their nature 
in connection with them may not be unacceptable to the 
reader. 



s 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



The worship of Jupiter constituted one of the loftiest 
religious functions of ancient times. He was represented 
as a majestic figure with a long flowing beard, seated upon 
a throne, holding a thunderbolt in his right hand and a 
victory in the other, having at his feet an eagle bearing 
away Ganymede. The upper part of his body was naked, 
the lower clothed. All these characters were supposed to 
have a mystic meaning ; the throne denoting stability and 
security of empire ; the nakedness of the upper part of his 
body, that he was only visible to the higher intelligences 
and in the celestial parts of the universe ; the clothing of 
the lower part, that he was hidden from the inferior world. 
The sceptre in his right hand signified his omnipotence ; the 
victory in his left, that he was invincible ; and the eagle, that 
he was the lord of heaven. 

His worship commanded the highest honours. The first 
day of every period was dedicated to him by festivals, 
sacrifices, or libations. He was the Lord of Light ; the 
white colour was sacred to him. The victims most com- 
monly offered to him were a goat, a sheep, or a white bull 
with gilded horns : the lesser offerings made to him were 
salt, flour, or incense. His chariot was supposed to be 
drawn by twenty-four white horses ; his priests wore white 
caps ; the consuls were robed in white when they offered 
their first sacrifices to him. The oak and the olive were 
consecrated to him. His worship was largely followed by 
the Roman ladies. 

Probably the lofty ceremonial of the homage done to 
him here would be but the shadow of the more splendid 
rites of the Capitol of Rome, which was considered specially 
his seat ; but enough is left to us in the proportions and 
grandeur of this fine temple to certify that his worship even 
here was no mean thing, and that it bore the significance 
of the highest form of religious pomp and display. 

Not very distant from this is another temple, with a long 
colonnaded approach, dedicated to another kind of worship, 
that of Cybele and Atys. This mysterious form of religion/ 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



9 



or rather superstition, looms out to us through the lurid 
ages, a dark symbolism and outgrowth of some of the most 
confusing and incomprehensible elements that lie at the 
bottom of human nature. It is the communion of those 
wild and mysterious passions that seem always lying in 
wait for the unwary to hur] them in their stormy arms on the 
waves of ever-unsatisfied desire, which bear in their train 
the furies of anguish, remorse, madness, and self-despair. 

Cybele appears primarily to have represented the Earth : 
the great fruitful mother of organic being. The worship 
of the earth under one form or other is the most ancient 
and extensive of all worships. It ruled the religious mind 
of races long passed away. But what is the most remark- 
able of all, it would appear as if traces of its symbolism 
still exist in some modern forms of Christianity. In the 
Capitoline gallery of sculptures at Rome is a bas-relief 
of a priest of Cybele, bearing in one hand an aspergillum 
for the scattering of consecrated water, and in the other 
a long scourge and a shell, in which are fruits and a pine 
cone. From his head depend two strings of beads of 
recurrent sizes, long enough to have served the devotional 
purpose of the modern rosary without being taken off. 
At the sides, besides some musical instrument, are sculp- 
tured a censer, a pedum, or crooked staff, which may have 
answered to the ecclesiastical pastoral crook. Lastly, there 
is the Phrygian cap, of such a form that it might appear to 
shadow forth the tiara of modern times. 

Diodorus Siculus says that Cybele was the daughter of 
Meon, king of Lydia, and Dindyme, his wife. The king 
not desiring that she should be brought up, caused her to 
be exposed on Mount Cybele (from which she took her 
name). She was, however, suckled by the leopards and 
other savage animals. Being here discovered by some 
shepherdesses, she was carried to their home and brought 
up amongst them. As she grew up she surpassed her 
companions as much in wisdom and beauty as in the 
qualities of genius and invention. She made the stops 



IO 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



to the flute, and introduced the use of timbrels and drums. 
Her love for children, of whom she had saved many from 
various diseases, gave her the name of Mother in the 
Mountain. 

Cybele then fell in love with Atys, afterwards called 
Papas. She was subsequently led by accident to the court 
of her father, who, discovering her amour, caused Atys 
to be slain, together with the shepherdess who had first 
found and rescued her. Upon this she became delirious, 
and ran through the country shrieking and beating drums. 
The Phrygians about this time, suffering cruel distempers 
and severe famine, consulted an oracle, and were thereupon 
desired to bury Atys and honour Cybele as a goddess. 
Annual sacrifices were instituted in her honour, and after- 
wards a stately temple was built to her in the city of 
Pessinus, in Phrygia. Here her worship was celebrated 
with great uproar : her priests beating tabrets and striking 
bucklers with spears, dancing furiously with wild contortions 
and frantic gesticulations, dark and evil doings being mixed 
with these violent devotions. 

She was generally represented as a matron holding keys 
to symbolize the undeveloped treasures of the earth. She 
wore a wreath of oak : her temples were round, and crowned 
with turrets to signify the cities built upon the earth. Her 
chariot was drawn with tame lions, in allusion to the power 
of culture : the various instruments she bore represented 
implements of culture. 

Catullus, in one of his odes, describes in a few wonderful 
lines with the vigour of a master hand the initiation of Atys. 
After having taken the initiatory rite, by mutilating himself, 
he seizes the musical instruments and calls upon his fellows 
to join him in the new worship. "The whole band," says 
the poet, "forthwith yelled with quivering tongues, the 
light timbrel booms, the hollow cymbals clash, and up to 
Ida goes the impetuous rout with hurried steps : with them 
goes Atys with his timbrel, raving, panting, like one lost 
and demented, and leads the way through the murky forests, 



Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



1 1 



like an unbroken heifer shunning the burthen of the yoke. 
Swiftly the Gallae follow their hasty-footed leader. So when 
they reach the home of Cybele, wearied with excessive 
exertion they fall asleep fasting. Heavy sleep covers their 
drooping eyes with languor, and their raving phrensy sub- 
sides in soft repose."* Still more finely touched in, perhaps, 
is the bitter repentance of Atys at his awaking — a repentance 
that only adds to his fury. Then Cybele lets loose her lions. 
" ' Up, fierce beast, up,' " she says ; " 'go, hence with him, in 
madness, make him return hence, smitten with madness, 
into the forest, who audaciously desires to fly from my 
sway. Up! beat thy flanks with thy tail: lash thyself: 
make the whole region resound with thy roaring : toss 
fiercely thy tawny mane on thy tawny neck.' So said 
terrific Cybele, and unfastened the yokes with her hand. 
The beast, inciting himself, pricks up his impetuous spirit, 
runs, roars, and breaks down the bushes in his headlong 
course. But when he reached the verge of the foam- 
whitened shore, and saw soft Atys near the breakers, he 
made a rush. The bewildered wretch fled into the wild 
forest, and there he remained all his life long the bond-slave 
of Cybele."| 

* " Simul hsec comitibus Atys cecinit notha mulier, 
Thiasus repente linguis trepidantibus ululat, 
Leve tympanum remugit, cava cymbala recrepant. 
Viridem citus adit Idam properante pede chorus. 
Furibunda simul, anhelans, vaga vadit, animi egens, 
Comitata tympano Atys, per opaca nemora dux, 
Veluti juvenca vitans onus indomita jugi, 
Rapidae ducem sequuntur Gallae pede propero. 
Itaque, ut domum Cybelles tetigere, lassulse 
Nimio e labore somnum capiunt sine Gerere. 
Piger his labantes languore oculos sopor operit, 
Abit in quiete molli rabidus furor animi." 
f Translation in Bonn's series. 

" Agedum, inquit, age ferox, i : face ut hinc furoribus, 
Face ut hinc furoris ictu reditum in nemora ferat, 
Mea libere nimis qui fugere imperia cupit. 
Age, caede terga cauda : tua verbera patere : 
Face cuncta mugienti fremitu loca retonent: 



12 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



The story of the arrival of the image or symbol of Cybele 
at Ostia and the carrying of it to Rome, is one of those 
wonderful legends which are made more of by the poet 
than the historian. It is told by Livy, and finds a lengthy 
narration by Ovid in one of his finest descriptive poems. It 
is thus related. 

In the year of Rome five hundred and forty-seven, or about 
two hundred years before the birth of Christ, in consequence 
of the fall of numerous showers of stones the Sibylline books 
were consulted, when a prediction unknown before was found 
therein, which said that whenever Italy should be invaded 
by a foreign enemy, the foe should be conquered if the 
image of the Idsean mother should be brought from Pessinus 
in Phrygia to Rome. This discovery produced a profound 
consternation. At the same time notice was received of 
an approaching contest from the Pythian Apollo at Delphi, 
in which the Romans should be victorious : also at this time 
a speedy termination was expected to the war in Africa. 
It was finally concluded that the oracle at Delphi must be 
consulted on the best means of obtaining the object pointed 
out by the Sibylline books. They there learned that it was 
to be obtained by means of king Attalus, and that they 
must appoint the best man in Rome to receive it. They 
then went to the king of Pergamus, who conducted 
them to Pessinus, where a sacred stone was put into their 
hands, which they were told was the mother of the gods, 
to be conveyed to Rome. The honourable distinction of 
receiving it fell upon Publius Scipio Nasica, whose father 
had been recently killed in Spain ; upon what grounds 



Rutilam ferox torosa cervice quate jubam. — 

Ait haec minax Cybelle, religatque juga manu. 

Ferus ipse sese adhortans rapidum incitat animum : 

Vadit, fremit, refringit virgulta pede vago. 

At ubi ultima albicantis loca littoris adiit, 

Tenerumque vidit Atyn prope marmora pelagi : 

Facit impetum. Ille demens fugit in nemora fera. 

Ibi semper omne vitae spatium famula fuit." O. Lxnr. 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



13 



history is silent. He was accordingly sent to Ostia for the 
purpose. When the ship in which it was carried arrived 
within sight, Scipio sailed out to meet it, and receiving the 
stone reverently, placed it in the hands of the matrons, who 
passing it from one to another, conveyed it to Rome. Ere 
it reached the city all the people poured out to meet it. 
Frankincense was burned at every door and propitiatory 
prayers offered. It was then borne into the temple of 
victory on the palatine, crowds of persons bringing presents 
and celebrating the auspicious occasion. The stone was set 
in silver and worshipped under the name of Cybele. Some 
have conjectured it to have been an aerolite. The frequent 
mention of showers of stones by ancient writers leads to 
the conjecture that falls of meteorolites may have more fre- 
quently taken place than they do now ; or possibly they 
may have been volcanic stones thrown from a long distance ; 
if, indeed, the accounts are not fabulous altogether. 

Adjoining some baths whose mosaics and marbles still 
attest their former splendour, is a third temple, dedicated to 
Mithras, the sun-god. The principal court still retains its 
original plan together with traces of the colonnade by which 
it was surrounded, doubtless open to the sky, but communi- 
cating with a wide chamber of brickwork masonry, which 
leads through an atrium into an interior one. On the 
floor of the court, which is of marble, a mosaic inscription 
signifies that L. Agrius Calendio gave and dedicated the 
temple (or perhaps only the mosaic) to the invincible sun- 
god Mithras. In a raised apse near the altar once covered 
with costly marbles were found three statues of Mithraic 
priests, with traces of gilding on the vestments, each bearing 
a torch ; one lowered, another lifted, the third, upon which 
the priest leans, being extinguished. Fragments of other 
sculptures were also found there. 

This singular form of worship, probably of extreme 
antiquity in the East, appears to have been first made 
known in Italy by the companions of Pompey the Great 
on their return from the Oriental campaigns under that 



14 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



general in the century before the Christian era ; but it does 
not seem to have prevailed much in the western world until 
two or three centuries later. 

Mithras was regarded as belonging to the realms of both 
Light and Darkness : as the genius between the Sun and the 
Moon : as the Reconciler between the Persian deities Ormuzd 
and Ahriman, who were the authors of Good and Evil : as 
the Demiurge or Creator of the Universe : as the conductor 
of souls through the signs of the zodiac, first, to mortal life 
in the world, and then to the supreme source of all things 
through death. According to some, he not only fashioned the 
world, but contains in himself the seeds of all life — just as 
the Nicene creed defines the Holy Ghost, the Lord and 
Giver of life. He also partakes of the passions and sorrows 
of men, here offering another analogy with Christianity ; 
and finally triumphs over Darkness and Evil. 

The symbolism by which he is represented may be thus 
explained. Mithras slays a bull, which represents the 
fructifying earth, whose flank being open causes the vivi- 
fying blood to flow forth. Spring stands beside him as a 
youth with an uplifted torch ; also symbolized as a growing 
tree. Autumn as an old man with a reverted torch, is the 
bearer of ripened fruits, represented as a tree also. A 
serpent, a scorpion, and a dog (standing for the constella- 
tions through which the sun passes during the summer 
months) prey upon the bull, or assist the god in causing its 
blood to flow. The eagle and the hawk, symbols of the 
Oriental deity Ormuzd, sometimes soar near. Progressive 
mystic initiations formed a prominent part of Mithraic 
rites, as in those of Cybele. The two trainings, however, 
differed considerably ; the votaries of Cybele being educated 
through noise and uproar, those of Mithras in stillness and 
seclusion. The initiation of the latter was performed in 
caves where, secluded from light and all company, the 
probationers underwent eighty different kinds of tortures 
or expiations. Many were not able to endure these severe 
preparations, and died in the noviciate : often enough 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



IS 



those who survived were so crazed and shaken in mind, 
as never to recover their former condition. A relief found 
in the Tyrol represents the Mithraic worshippers seated at 
a feast, which would remind one of the Agape, or " Love- 
Feast," of the early Christians. There is a raised platform 
round the Mithreum of the newly-discovered temple at the 
church of San Clemente at Rome, which, it is thought, may 
have served such a purpose. An interesting discovery of a 
tablet consisting of the figure of Mithras, surrounded by an 
egg-shaped zone, on which are represented the signs of the 
zodiac, was made at Borcovicus (now Housesteads), on the 
Roman Wall in Northumberland.* In the same cave was 
found an altar with a dedicatory inscription. 

Leaving these temples, it is saddening to walk through 
the deserted streets and houses of this bygone town. Floors 
covered with rich mosaics are now left open to the sky : 
mutilated statues keep forlorn state amongst unshorn grass 
and rank weeds : large jars for corn and wine, sunk into 
the ground, witness of buying and selling before Death had 
struck the last bargain : the worn pavements mark the 
passage of vehicles : everywhere are seen the signs of life 
and activity, long since ended, of an energetic and pros- 
perous people, whose former home is usurped by the 
humming bee, the burly beetle, and the music-loving 
lizard. 

Vastly different from the spreading solitude now before 
us must this inhospitable coast have been when ^Eneas, 
after his long voyage, found its welcome shelter, so finely 
described by Virgil in the opening of the seventh book of 
the yEneid, if, indeed, it be anything more than a poetic 
fiction. He says : " And now the sea began to blush with 
th.e morning rays, and in the lofty firmament saffron aurora 

* There is an engraving given of this in the Rev. J. Collingwood Bruce's 
work on the Roman Wall, p. 398. I am not able to read its symbolism 
clearly from the engraving. It would be curious to see if it numbered 
thirteen signs of the zodiac, as used by the Anglo-Saxons, an example of 
which may be seen round the doorway of the Church of St. Margaret at 
York. 



i6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. 



Chap. II. 



shone in her car of rosy hue, when the winds at once 
dropped, and every breath of air suddenly subsided, and 
the oars labour in the lazy water. And here iEneas from 
the sea beholds a great grove. The Tiber divides it with 
his pleasant stream, a river with whirling eddies, and yellow 
with thick sand ; here it bursts forth into the sea ; around 
and above were birds of various plumage, which, haunting 
the banks and channel of the stream, charmed the air with 
their song, and flew in the grove. The" prince bids his 
comrades turn their course, and put their prows towards 
the land, and gladly takes shelter in the shady river." * 

The mouth of the Tiber, according to Dionysius, was first 
adapted for a sea-port, and the city of Ostia (which means 
a port, or entrance) built by Ancus Martius, the fourth 
king of Rome, somewhat more than six hundred years 
before the Christian era. The harbour was reconstructed 
and additions made to it by the emperor Claudius, six or 
seven centuries later. He carried out pillars on each side, 
and formed a mole to protect the entrance, sinking the 
huge vessel in which the obelisk now standing in front of 
St. Peter's at Rome had been brought from Heliopolis, and 
raising a lofty lighthouse upon piles laid upon it. 

The silting up of this harbour caused another to be 
subsequently undertaken by the emperor Trajan, and a 
new canal cut, which is the branch of the river still navi- 
gated, known as the Fiumicino, or little river. 

* Globe translation. 

" Jamque rubescebat radiis mare, et asthere ab alto 
Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis : 
Cum venti posuere, omnisque repente resedit 
Flatus, et in lento luctantur marmore tonsse. 
Atque hie ./Eneas ingentem ex aequore lucum 
Prospicit. Hunc inter fluvio Tiberinus amoeno, 
Vorticibus rapidis, et multa flavus arena, 
In mare prorumpit. Varias circumque supraque 
Assuetae ripis volucres et fluminis alveo 
iEthera mulcebant cantu, lucoque volabant. 
Flectere iter sociis terrseque advertere proras 
Imperat. et laetus fluvio succedit opaco."' 



Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



17 



Strabo says that in his time (about the beginning of 
the Christian era) Ostia had no port, owing to alluvial 
deposit, and that numerous vessels plied in the open sea as 
lighters to freight and unload the larger ships, which could 
not even be anchored near the shore without danger. It 
was desirable to relieve those vessels of a part of their 
burden which were going to Rome, in order that they 
might make a speedy voyage up the river. In the fourth 
century the place began to fall into decay, and was 
shortly afterwards all but abandoned. Its destruction was 
completed by the Saracens in the fifth century, and it is 
only in the ninth century that it is heard of again as the 
Gregoriopolis of Pope Gregory the Fourth, who built the 
present hamlet, surrounding it with walls. In the same 
century it received a notable defeat in an engagement with 
the Saracens, which is represented by Raphael on the walls 
of the Stanze at the Vatican. It maintained a military 
position of importance for long afterwards during the 
Middle Ages. Early in the seventeenth century it again 
fell into neglect and disuse, the melancholy and deserted 
place we now see it. 

By far the most conspicuous object presented to us on the 
whole undulating deltaic country which carries the eye to the 
gloomy belt of pines which lines the coast here, is an old 
castle, consisting of an enormous round tower and four square 
walls, companioned by a solitary stone-pine that spreads 
out its huge head of foliage high in the air, a little bent with 
the sea-winds against which it has so long battled. This 
castle was built by Sangallo for the warlike cardinal Delia 
Rovere, who afterwards made his way to the papal throne 
rather by force of arms than the higher and more peaceable 
virtues of Christian life. He was called Julius the Second. 
" The elevation of Alexander the Sixth," says Roscoe, in 
narrating the circumstance, "was the signal of flight to 
such of the cardinals as had opposed his election. Giuliano 
della Rovere, who to a martial spirit united a personal 
hatred to Alexander, insomuch that in one of their quarrels 



i8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



the dispute had terminated with blows, thought it prudent 
to consult his safety by retiring to Ostia, of which place he 
was bishop. Here he fortified himself as for a siege, 
alleging that he could not trust f the traitor,' by which 
appellation he had been accustomed to distinguish his 
ancient adversary." 

Near Ostia are some salt pits, or marshes, in which the 
water of the sea is received and then evaporated. The 
salt thus produced is of a yellow hue, owing to an ad- 
mixture of the waters of the Tiber. These were formed by 




CASTLE AT OSTIA. 



Ancus Martius, and must not be confused with those 
exacted from the Veientes as hostages of peace by Romu- 
lus when he overcame them at Fidenae, since those must 
have been on the other side of the river ; on the Etrurian, 
and not the Latian side, as Canina justly remarks. 

Dante makes Ostia, " Dove V acqua di Tevere s insala " 
(where the water of the Tiber becomes salt), the entrance into 
Purgatory, as symbolical of the seat of the church at Rome. 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



1 9 



If the reader is not already tired of this dreary region, 
let him prolong his walk southward about two miles to 
Castel Fusano, a modern castellated mansion, ghostlike in 
its lonely gloom, belonging to the Chigi family. It is 
situated in the skirts of a forest of pines, stretching for 
miles along the coast. Being not very distant from the 
sea, it was fortified to withstand the attacks of the Barbary 
corsairs in the seventeenth century. It is a large, solid- 
looking residence ; its roof being on a level with the lofty 
trees, whose umbrageous tops look like a garden suspended 
in the air. But by what sombre shades is it surrounded ! 
Funereal plumes of dark pines hang over glassy pools of 
stagnant water, grown with reeds and rushes and rank 
grass, as if they mourned the lonely desolation of the spot ; 
and if any cheerful breeze comes by, laden with pleasant 
murmurs of the sea, it sinks to a whisper there, and dies 
amongst the branches with a feeble wail. Even the sun- 
shine puts on a sobered look within these dismal precincts, 
whilst Melancholy sits brooding in the solitude, with 
Miasma and Malaria by her side, fed with the consuming 
fires of slow fever and shivering ague. It has an eery sound, 
too, the wind at night in these dusky pines, when the 
December clouds have crushed the day down to a narrow 
streak at the horizon, and the dry reeds shriek with subdued 
voices, and the withered weeds, gaunt and grey, wave and 
whisper ominously. Then let the sad heart keep away 
from them, for they will tell it over and over again in 
wearisome tones all the sorrow that ever it knew. 

This forest is the ancient Silva Laurentina. It is the 
site of one of the most touching episodes in the ^Eneid of 
Virgil — the deaths of the fast friends Nisus and Euryalus, 
in -the war waged by ^Eneas against the Rutulian king 
Turnus, in dispute for the hand of the fair Lavinia. 

One night as they were both on guard together, 
Nisus, in the desire to distinguish himself, inquired of 
Euryalus, " Do the gods inspire men's souls with this ardour, 
or does each man make a god of his own strong passions ?" 

C 2 



20 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



and then went on to say that the Rutulian watch-fires 
were slowly dying down, and that, overcome with wine 
and sleep, their enemies no longer maintained their guard, 
and proposed to go to ^Eneas, that he might summon a 
council, and allow them to enter the enemy's camp. Having 
obtained permission, they went thither. After slaying a 
number of their sleeping foes, and lading themselves with 
booty, they prepared to return, when they were met by a 
troop of horsemen sent from the town of Latinus, who, 
espying the helmet of Euryalus, challenged them. They 
rled into the forest, relying on the darkness to conceal 
them ; but Euryalus was surrounded and taken. Although 
Nisus had reached a place of safety, yet, missing his friend, 
he turned back in search of him. Presently he discerned 
the horsemen, and unperceived, threw several darts with 
fatal effect. After searching in vain for the source of these 
missiles, their leader, Volscens, ran upon Euryalus, exclaim- 
ing that his life should pay for both. Nisus immediately 
hastened from his hiding-place and confessed himself the 
author of the mischief; but too late to save his friend, in 
whose body the sword of Volscens was already buried. 
Rushing furiously with whirling sword upon Volscens, 
Nisus plunged it into his throat, and then throwing himself 
on the corpse of his friend, died, pierced with many a wound, 
their blood mingling on the turf.* 

After a long day's ramble we found ourselves once more 
in the vicinity of Fiumicino, but knowing that the little 
place would be filled to the utmost, we went into a small 
road-side osteria, not offering, it is true, a very luxurious 
interior — in fact it very much bore the appearance of an 
English stable on the first entry ; but experience had taught 
us that we should here very likely find tolerable cookery in 
a rough way, decent wine and a clean white napkin, how- 
ever coarse ; in no particular of which were we disap- 
pointed. 

The salt placed upon the table was noticeable as being 
* Virg. JEn. ix. 176. 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



21 



of a similar kind, and made in the same place as that which 
had been in use thousands of years before, produced by- 
evaporating the salt water on the flats at the mouth of the 
river, as already mentioned. 

When we reached Fiumicino the afternoon sun was 
sloping downwards, and the steamer at the head of the canal 
was panting and blowing as if to inform the passengers that 
the hour of departure was approaching. We strolled down 
to the coast. Immense breakers were rolling up the sand, 
and the little wooden jetty was deluged with the waves. 

No sooner however had we begun to ascend the canal of 
Trajan, and the roar of the ocean to die on the ear, and the 
old ruins to grow less in the distance behind us, than the 
wind sank, and a calm pervaded the atmosphere. The 
canal is not quite straight, but follows a somewhat sinuous 
direction. Along its banks the remains of brickwork are still 
visible. Two or three tall poplars with crowning masses of 
foliage, looking like pines, stand at the head of it. Soon 
we entered the ancient stream. As the labouring vessel 
panted and pushed its difficult way up the swift current, a 
soft evening sun spread a rich mantle over the surrounding 
prospect. The blue sky, the glittering river laden with 
infinite memories, the sweeping Campagna, the distant 
mountains, so faint and thin that the white villages and 
towns upon them appeared to hang suspended in the air — all 
seemed to take the magic of the time, clothing themselves 
rather in the hues of a beautiful dream than the substantial 
colours of waking reality. On the steep sides of the river 
tiled tombs are seen, some gaping to the light, others still 
sealed, in which repose the ashes of the dead, sometime to 
be exposed rudely by the swelling current or the ' curious 
inquiry of the antiquary. All along, too, traces of masonry 
may be observed just above the water's edge ; probably the 
remains of houses and other buildings which occupied its 
banks. As we passed along the shores the wide difference 
between their present and former condition was thrust upon 
my mind. I imagined them covered with fair gardens 



22 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



sloping down to the water's edge, with long alleys of trees 
and trimly cut shrubs and bushes. I imagined the weary 
citizen retired for his villeggiatura, from the toil and bustle 
of Rome, standing with wife and child by his balustraded 
terrace as the slow ship was towed up the river by labouring 
oxen, or the slave-row r ed galley dipped its tiers of oars into 
the whirling current, fighting its way to the far-off city be- 
tween sombre masses of pendulous foliage. Now, indeed, all 
is changed. The white heron watches for his prey on bare 
banks, or flaps across the stream with the slow beat of his 
broad wings ; skimming sand-martins flutter over its eddying 
surface ; various kinds of piper haunt the water's edge ; the 
wheeling hawk lingers and sails in the air ; the many- 
coloured bee-eater burrows in the crumbling banks, or flies 
over, uttering his low, soft whistle, whilst great herds of 
shaggy cattle stand where the river has left a dry bed of 
sand or mud, whisking their tails and enjoying the coolness. 

To all this the people on board the vessel appeared to be 
for the most part supremely indifferent. Nor should it be 
matter of surprise. Italians are so accustomed to the beauty 
and antiquities that everywhere surround them, that it is 
no wonder that a great proportion of them should pass un- 
remarked. If they had always to bear with them the great 
burden of the past, records of which meet them at every turn, 
there would be no room for the thoughts and feelings of to- 
day. So they, not unwisely, perhaps, gave themselves to the 
enjoyment of the hour, laughing, joking, chatting, eating and 
drinking with the utmost gaiety and good-humour. The band 
grew louder and louder, probably on the strength of the 
wine of Fiumicino, blowing till it was red in the face, and 
hardly ever pausing to take breath. I stood on the captain's 
deck, alternately gazing at the prospect and watching the 
animated scene beneath. Presently a band of sailors (if 
such they might be called who had come to assist the work- 
ing of the vessel) came and sat below me. There were men 
old and young, together with a number of boys, whose 
duties seemed to be chiefly that of hopping about like frogs, 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



23 



of which every Italian vessel that ever I sailed in was 
always full. I counted fourteen of these able assistants 
once on a Neapolitan ferry-boat. One of this particular 
group took some salt, and laying it upon the deck without 
so much as blowing the dust away, set his heel upon it to 
reduce it to powder, which was the signal to begin. I 
cannot tell what they ate, nor what they drank, but if it 
were not of the best, its deficiencies were amply compen- 
sated by the mirth and contentment that prevailed amongst 
them. 

Perhaps the most picturesque point of the river between 
Rome and its mouth is Dragoncello, a lonely tenuta, or 
farm-house, situated on an elevation clothed with trees and 
verdure, which Nibby identifies as the probable site of 
Ficana, conquered by the Romans under Ancus Martius.* 
Not far from here is Magliana, now turned into a farm- 
house and buildings, though formerly the favourite residence 
of several of the popes. It consists of a long extent of low 
grey buildings lying on the left bank, situated in a plain 
surrounded by sweeping hillocks. On the south rise the 
Alban hills, and more to the east the more elevated Sabine 
range, with its tender and beautiful lines. A lofty stone 
gateway gives entrance to the court, which is flanked on 
two sides by the principal buildings turreted and castellated, 
having a fine fountain in the middle. 

Some frescoes attributed to Raphael ornament the walls. 
It is now a dreary and desolate range of building, but 
was once the favourite retreat of Leo the Tenth during the 
hunting season. It was here that he took his last illness, 
the circumstances of which are thus narrated by Ranke in 
his ' History of the Popes.' 

" At the diet of Worms, in the year fifteen hundred and 
twenty-one, where the religious and political affairs of 
Europe were discussed, Leo concluded a treaty with 
Charles the Fifth for the reconquest of Milan," then under 
the dominion of Francis the First of France. 

* See Livy, i. 33, 



^4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



" Leo was at his villa at Magliana when the news of the 
entry of his troops into Milan was brought to him. He 
gave himself up to the feeling which is wont to accompany 
the successful termination of an enterprise, and contemplated 
with pleasure the festivities with which his people were pre- 
paring to celebrate his triumph. Up to a late hour in the 
night he went backwards and forwards from the window 
to the blazing hearth ; it was in November. Somewhat 
exhausted, but full of joy and exultation, he returned 
to Rome. The rejoicings for the victory were just ended, 
when he was attacked by a mortal disease. 'Pray for 
me,' said he to his attendants, 1 that I may still make you 
all happy.' He loved life, but his hour was come. He 
had not time to receive the viaticum, nor extreme unction. 
So suddenly, so early, so full of high hopes, he died as the 
poppy fadeth." 

" The Roman people," adds Ranke, " could not forgive 
him for dying without the sacraments, for spending so 
much money, and for leaving debts. They accompanied 
his body to the grave with words of reproach and indigna- 
tion. ' You glided in like a fox,' said they ; ' you ruled like 
a lion, you died like a dog.' Posterity, however, has stamped 
a century, and a great epoch in the advancement of the 
human race, with his name." 

Passing by Tor di Valle, where the emissary of the Alban 
Lake, made before the fall of Veii, discharges itself into the 
river, the church and convent of San Paolo alle Tre Fontane 
comes into view, a little removed from the banks on the 
right, about two miles distant from Rome. 

On the spot where this church stands St. Paul is said to 
have been beheaded. There is a fragment of a column 
shown on which he is supposed to have suffered. Near 
the altar are three several springs of water, said to mark 
the places where the head fell and rebounded. On the floor 
some curious and rude mosaics from Ostia symbolize the 
four seasons. There are also two other churches near. One 
of them contains some fine mosaics of the modern school. 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



25 



But the most interesting of the three is an old basilica built 
by Honorius the First in the year six hundred and twenty- 
six, affording an excellent sample of the earliest form of 
Christian architecture in its transition from the ancient 
pagan temple. It has eight arches on either side, supported 
by pilasters. The roof is open woodwork, the wide nave 
being without chapels. In the front of the church is a 
portico supported by granite columns. 

The convent is inhabited by Trappist monks. It would 
be difficult to imagine a more dreary spot than that of this 
little settlement. Buried in a hollow of the Campagna, 
surrounded by desolate hills laid bare in many places for 
the pozzolana earth which they contain, removed from other 
habitations, in an unhealthy locality, it must surely be trying 
to the resident religious community. Perhaps, however, 
the wholesome rule of living by the labour of their own 
hands, the quiet retirement and peaceful thoughts nourished 
thereby, may enable these recluses to support so uncir- 
cumstantial an existence even with pleasure and satisfaction. 

A mile nearer to Rome, and close to the river, the Basilica 
of St. Paul stands, which early tradition marks as his burial- 
place. This splendid temple occupies the position of what 
was formerly one of the noblest monuments of Christian 
architectural art — the ancient Basilica of St. Paul, once 
under the protection of the kings of England, begun in the 
year three hundred and eighty-eight on the site of one still 
more ancient over the remains of a Roman Christian lady. 
This was destroyed by fire in eighteen hundred and twenty- 
three, and of all its costly marbles and mosaics only a few 
fragments were saved. Large sums were immediately set 
aside and collected for its restoration. Whatever the former 
building may have been, it is not easy to imagine anything 
grander in its manner than that which has now taken its 
place. 

It has a spacious nave surmounted by large mosaic 
portraits of the popes from the earliest times ; four ranges 
of enormous polished granite columns on either side sup- 



26 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 



porting a ceiling of carved and gilded woodwork : the floor 
is of polished marble, in which these columns are reflected 
as in a mirror. The fine altar and baldacchino borne on 
pillars of alabaster, the noble mosaics saved from the 
ancient church in the apse, the precious stones of costliest 
inlay with which the church is lined, the open, airy look 
communicated by the abundant light falling everywhere on 
objects of splendour, fill the mind with amazement and 
defy description. It must be confessed, however, that the 
tender and reflective nature of the Christian religion would 
seem to demand a more pensive atmosphere, more subdued 
lights and quieter surroundings whereon to rest the eye in 
its most devotional moods. This gorgeous fabric would 
more remind one of the ordered grace and elegance of some 
magnificent pagan temple of old than of the toned and 
softened accessories with which Christian worship loves to 
surround itself. 

Perhaps the more thoughful visitor will be better satisfied 
with the tranquil images presented to the mind in the tasteful 
fancies of the adjoining cloister. Gracefully carved columns 
supporting the roof inclose a square patch of picturesque 
garden-ground. Once these columns were inlaid with mo- 
saics, but time and sacrilegious hands have now carried 
them almost all away. Here the sunshine rests, seen from 
pleasant shade, where the good brothers of former days 
have walked and mused in the still hours of recreation. 
There still seems to linger an ancestral devotion about its 
quaint flower-beds and crumbling walls which time cannot 
destroy. 

Nothing can be conceived more unattractive than the 
external appearance of this wonderful temple. Bare, blank 
walls of light blink with straight, ugly-looking slits for 
windows, whilst the campanile is a monumental epitome 
of architecture gone mad. Pile upon pile of incongruous 
masonry climb to a height of ugliness it would be hard to 
match in the whole history of architectural follies. Perhaps, 
however, in neglecting the outside of the building the archi- 



Chap. II. 



FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 



27 



tect may have had the artistic intention of surprising the 
spectator with the contrast between the exterior and interior. 
If he had any such aim he certainly could not have carried 
it out more effectually. 

Just after passing St. Paul's the inconsiderable stream 
of the Almo empties itself It was famous in ancient days 
as the spot where the image of Cybele and the utensils 
belonging to her worship were annually washed with great 
state and pomp. Ovid, speaking of the ceremony, says, 
" There is a spot where the rapid Almo flows into the Tiber, 
and the lesser stream loses its name in the greater. There 
does the hoary priest in his purple vestments lave the lady 
goddess and her sacred utensils in the waters of the Almo."* 
The custom is also alluded to by other writers. This 
stream flows from the so-called Grotto of Egeria by the 
temple of Bacchus on the Campagna. and is afterwards 
crossed by the Appian Way ; but its source really lies in 
the Alban Hills near Marino" from which place it is con- 
veyed to the Grotto by a subterranean channel. 

As we followed the windings of the river the dome of 
St. Peter suddenly met the sight and as suddenly vanished. 
The sun had long since set. The stars came out above 
our heads, shyly at first, and then more brightly. The 
mirth and merriment died away to a more reflective silence, 
and when we slid up to the quay the outline of the lofty 
Aventine, with its convents and churches and crowning 
cypresses, was softened in the silvery light of the moon and 
one fair planet that burned brightly beside it. Pale lights 
glimmered in the street. Friends bade each other farewell, 
and the faint murmurs of the city came to us muffled 
through the stillness of night. 

* " Est locus, in Tiberin qua lubricus influit Almo, 
Et nomen magno perdit ab amne minor. 
Illic purpurea canus cum veste sacerdos 
Almonis dominam sacraque lavit aquis." 

Fasti, iv. 337. 



23 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



CHAPTER III. 

ROME. FROM THE PROTESTANT CEMETERY TO 
THE TOWER OF ANGUILLARA. 

T J HAT a strange sensation is that which overpowers 



V V the traveller on his first arrival in Rome ! With 
what varied and innumerable associations is his mind 
filled ! The very name of it is laden with memories which 
breathe a vitality through the vanished centuries, ensouling 
the present with the mighty energies and active life of the 
past. At first everything seems to bear a consecration to 
him ; but presently his reverence gives place to a tender 
and loving interest, which familiarity seems rather to 
increase than diminish : so that nobody who has once 
visited Rome wishes it may be for the last time. 

The first object that meets the eye on entering the city 
by the upward course of the river is the Protestant burial- 
ground. It is situated on a gentle slope falling from the 
ivied walls — a beautiful spot, planted with tall cypresses 
that rise above its graves, dispensing a solemn gloom 
about their muffled precincts. There is, perhaps, no place 
in Rome so soothing as this tranquil corner in the evening 
hours, when the throstle sings his latest song and the 
cawing jackdaw retires to rest. Then everything seems to 
be surrounded with an atmosphere of repose. The far-off 
sounds of the city lulled to a faint murmur, the increasing 
dimness, the drooping immortelles, and the quiet graves — 
all breathe a pensive peacefulness through the mind, 
making death appear no more a mystery and a sorrow — 




Chap. III. 



ROME. 



29 



the painful dislocation of time — but the natural consumma- 
tion of life waiting until the individual shall be merged into 
the great Being of the universe. 

On the highest part of the ground, underneath the ancient 
wall, lie interred the ashes of the poet Shelley. It will be 
remembered that he was drowned in a boat off Spezia, with 
his friend Williams. Many days afterwards his body was 
found by Captain Trelawny, so disfigured and mangled as 
to have been scarcely recognisable, had not a volume of 
Sophocles in one pocket and the poems of Keats in 
another left no doubt of his identity. In consequence of 
the stringent regulations then in force in that part of Italy, 
the corpse was not allowed to be taken inland ; so it 
remained for a while buried in the sand. Permission was 
subsequently obtained to burn it ; and for this purpose an 
apparatus was prepared by Captain Trelawny and a pyre 
raised upon which it was placed. As the flames began to 
surround it salt and frankincense were thrown upon it, and 
oil and wine poured over it. When the rest of. the body 
was consumed the heart remained entire. It was snatched 
from the subsiding flames by Captain Trelawny, and this, 
together with his remains, was deposited in a box and 
finally interred where they now lie. 

It must have been a picturesque as well as a mournful 
spectacle. Lord Byron and Leigh Hunt were present, 
together with a number of soldiers and the Health officer. 
The background to this tragical ceremony is clearly 
sketched by the graphic pen of Captain Trelawny. He 
says : " The lonely and grand scenery that surrounded us 
so exactly harmonised with Shelley's genius, that I could 
imagine his spirit soaring over us. The sea, ' with the 
islands of Gorgona, Capraji, and Elba, was before us ; old 
battlemented watch-towers stretched along the coast, backed 
by the marble-crested Apennines glistening in the sun, 
picturesque from their diversified outlines, and not a human 
dwelling was in sight." One can well imagine the heavy 
column of smoke rising, the grouping of the soldiers and 



3° 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



the saddened faces of the friends of the poet, to whom the 
bright sunshine and fair prospect would appear like a 
mockery during the fulfilment of their melancholy task. 

His tomb, a flat slab of marble at a corner of the 
cemetery, bears this inscription : " Percy Bysshe Shelley. 
Cor Cordium. Natus IV. Aug. MDCCXCII. obiit VIII. Jul. 
MDCCCXXII. 

" Nothing of him that doth fade, 
But doth suffer a sea change 
Into something rich and strange." 

The words Cor Cordium, " heart of hearts," refer to the 
above-mentioned circumstance of his heart having remained 
entire from the funereal flames. The cool seclusion of this 
dim nook, surrounded by green leaves and peeping flowers, < 
might be such as the ethereal poet himself would have 
selected during his life-time for a last resting-place. 

Not far from here, but in a more neglected place now 
disused, lies the body of the unfortunate John Keats : 
unfortunate in that the laurels planted whilst he lived had 
scarcely time to grow ere he died, and that misprision 
should have preyed on a sensitive mind, embittering its last 
days, and calling around it clouds of sorrow where only 
sunshine should have reigned. On his marble head-stone 
is sculptured the fitting emblem of a lyre with broken 
strings, with the motto dictated by himself: 

" Here lies one whose name was writ in water." 

It is strange that the hearing and appreciation which is. 
frequently refused to a man during his life should be often 
given cordially enough at his death. Like the Roman 
king to whom were brought the Sibylline books, we reject 
the full offer of the present in scorn, too glad to seize the 
moiety afterwards on any terms. 

Rising up behind this tomb, far above the sheltering firs, 
is the pyramid of Caius Cestius, a huge monument and 
mausoleum, which was the last resting-place of a Roman 
praetor and tribune of the time of Augustus : one who was 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



3i 



once wont to prepare the feasts of the gods, but who has 
long since himself been made the spoil of decay. In the 
Capitoline Museum are two curious cippi or inscribed 
tablets, once belonging to this tomb, erected by his 
executors, setting forth that Caius had desired in his will 
that he might be buried in Atallic vestments. These were 
rich robes, very costly, woven of gold and other expensive 
materials, which took their name from Atalus, king of 
Phrygia, and were introduced after the overthrow of that 
kingdom in the century before the Christian era. The 
inscription goes on to say, that as it had been forbidden 
by law [probably enacted about the time of his death] that 
these robes should any longer be used in burial, the 
executors had spent the value of them in raising this tomb 
to his memory. Near the pyramid was found an enormous 
bronze foot, supposed to have belonged to a colossal statue 
of the silent indweller in this durable house. The house 
remains, but the tenant has departed for whose conservation 
it was built. For not even in our bones and ashes may we 
be immortal, or cheat corroding Time of his proper prey. 

On the same side of the river, and just beyond the limits 
of the cemetery, a wide and lofty hill rises, called Monte 
Testaccio, which at first looks as if it were a natural 
elevation of the ground, but on examination proves to be 
nothing but the sherds of broken ampJwrce, or wine jars. It 
is almost inconceivable that so large an accumulation 
could be the result of fragments so small. It was doubtless 
once the site of the manufacture of these articles, the 
broken ones being thrown aside as useless ; having its 
position here in order to be near the warehouses and the 
wharf where the wine was first landed and stored/ Climb- 
ing this hill to the summit, marked by a black cross, the 
eye sweeps the whole country round. Beyond the grave- 
yard and the pyramid and the low-lying city, the varied 
undulations of the Campagna spread to the distant 
mountains, crossed by dim aqueducts and straight roads. 
One of these is the Via Appia, with its border of tombs and 



32 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



the vast mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, the wife of Crassus, 
almost two thousand years old, still standing though 
stripped of its ancient pride. To the right the Tiber winds 
by the church of St. Paul, beneath the range of the 
Janiculum, into the city : over a shoulder of the hill the 
dome of St. Peter lifts itself, together with the more distant 
Monte Mario crowned with spiring cypresses and its single 
stone-pine. 

On the same side of the river, and a little further along, 
are a series of docks and quays lately opened up ; parts of 
which remain as entire as when they were in use. Sloping 
pavements for the convenience of landing goods are laid 
bare, the maker's name stamped upon the tiles being as 
fresh and legible as ever. The doors of the warehouses 
still remain ; and many parts of the walls, consisting of 
small blocks of tufa, built lozenge-wise (called opus i r eticitla- 
tum), are still intact. A small symbol sculptured in stone 
assigns each division of the quay to its proper use ; immense 
perforated blocks projecting from the brickwork serving to 
attach the vessels. The upper section constituted the 
marble wharf, large masses of which in various stages of 
working lie scattered about ; columns roughed out, blocks 
half sawn and pediments prepared for the chisel of the finer 
workmen. One of these is curious as showing the manner 
in which they proceeded to mark out columns in the solid 
block before working. It is singular that the modern marble 
wharf should have been fixed at almost the same spot, the 
position of the ancient one only having been discovered 
within the last few years. 

Opposite to this wharf or dock-yard (navalia), on the 
ground lying between the Janiculum and the river, was "the 
little farm of four acres," once held by the magnanimous 
Lucius Quintus, called Cincinnatus. Its position was 
formerly assigned to the prati, or meadows, higher up the 
river ; but the recent discovery of this wharf has indubitably 
fixed its site, since Livy describes it as across the river from 
Rome, just opposite to the docks. It was known in old 



Chap, III. 



ROME. 



33 



Roman days by the name of the Quintian meadows from 
its occupation by Cincinnatus ; the circumstances of which 
it is worth while to put together in passing ; particularly as 
modern historians generally give it no more than a bare 
mention. 

It happened at a certain time in the early republic of 
Rome that there arose a great deal of difference and jealousy 
of power between the tribunes who were the representatives 
of the people, and the patricians or nobles. One of the 
latter, and amongst the most distinguished by birth and 
fortune, was Lucius Quintus, who had a son named Caeso, 
a young man of good parts and education, brave and well 
favoured, having a certain measure of patrician pride, who 
espoused very warmly the cause of his party, measuring his 
language — for he was very eloquent — by no temperate rule. 
He was for this reason as much hated by the people as he 
was approved by the class to which he belonged. The 
tribunes, desiring at once to curb his haughtiness and show 
their power, preferred a charge against him, suborning dis- 
honest witnesses ; for which, indeed, there was some slight 
colour in his conduct, but no substantial foundation in fact. 
It was in vain that his father disproved the capital allega- 
tions made against him, pleading the inexperience of youth 
for the rest, and pointing to the acts of bravery which he 
had already performed, and the honours they had won him. 
On the false testimony of one Volscius, a slanderous, ill-con- 
ditioned man, he was cited to appear before the senate, but 
allowed his personal liberty on the bail of his father together 
with nine others, for his appearance when called upon by the 
senate ; but preferring a voluntary banishment, he went and 
settled in Tyrrhenia. Not content with paying his own part 
of. the surety, Cincinnatus paid all the others also the sums 
in which they had been bound with him, the exaction of no 
part of which was abated. For this purpose it was neces- 
sary to sell almost all his property, only reserving to him- 
self a small farm of four acres, lying across the Tiber, as . 
before described. To this place he went with his wife and 

D 



34 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



family and a few slaves ; occupying himself in rural pursuits 
and tilling the ground laboriously. But when the office of 
consul with Claudius became vacant a year afterwards, he 
was unanimously chosen to occupy the post, to the conster- 
nation of the people, who expected that he would repay 
upon them the wrong done to his son. They had little, 
however, to fear from one to whom justice was law and 
probity a possession. When the messengers arrived to 
accompany him to Rome he was found ploughing in rustic 
garments. As he paused in his labour, wondering what 
could be the object of a visit from so many persons, he was 
requested to go into his cottage and dress himself in a more 
becoming manner. The delegates then saluted him as con- 
sul, and covering him with the official robe bordered with 
purple, and bearing before him the axes and other ensigns 
of magistracy, he was led into the city. Before departing, 
however, he tenderly embraced his wife, commending the 
family concerns to her best care and attention, tears of 
regret starting to his eyes at leaving untended his little 
possession. 

Dionysius, who tells this story circumstantially, says, 
" What induces me to relate so many particulars is to let 
the world see what kind of men the Roman magistrates were 
at that time ; that they worked with their hands, and were 
temperate ; that they were not uneasy under innocent 
poverty ; and were so far from aiming at regal power, that 
they refused it even when offered. " 

Right nobly did Cincinnatus discharge the duties of his 
office, never once showing the least prejudice or interest 
in the distribution of justice. It is true, he used much 
firmness in subduing the disorders of the people, which had 
then risen very high ; but, at the same time, he fulfilled the 
magisterial function with so much mildness and equality, 
and was so humane and considerate in the discharge of it, 
that he raised the reputation, not only of the magistracy it- 
.seif, but also of the whole aristocracy ; and when the senate 
would have had him continue in the consulship after the 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



35 



prescribed term had expired, he both refused it and blamed 
those who pressed it upon him, resigning the power and im- 
portance of his position, and returning to his former place 
of abode and mode of life. 

He was not however permitted to remain long in retire- 
ment. Shortly afterwards Rome was engaged in a war 
with the ^Equi ; and the state finding itself involved in 
much difficulty, it was agreed on all hands that a dictator 
must be appointed, and that dictator must be no other than 
Cincinnatus. 

So they sent for him once more, bringing before him 
horses magnificently appointed, together with the four-and- 
twenty axes, the purple robe, and other insignia,- formerly 
the privilege of royalty alone ; at which he sighed, saying 
that this year's crop would also be lost for his pressing 
business. He did not refuse to go, however ; and appoint- 
ing some change of command in the Roman army, marched 
against the enemy, whom he overthrew with great slaughter, 
bearing thence abundant spoil and very large honours. But 
perhaps the part of his conduct which most of all merits 
praise is, that after six months from his appointment to the 
dictatorship, during which he received all the distinction 
which could be paid to the most honourable position, he laid 
down his office and went to his former simplicity of life ; 
neither could the senate persuade him to accept the least 
part of the lands he had conquered nor any money, slaves, 
or other reward ; and though friends and relations came 
forward with considerable presents, he refused them all ; pre- 
ferring his country cares to courtly ease, and his poverty to 
all the wealth and splendour that could be offered to him. 

This was not the last service that Cincinnatus rendered to 
his country, but it is enough to justify what Dionysius says of 
him, that " he was not only the greatest statesman but the 
ablest general of his time :" and that he was one of those — 

Who did give 
Themselves for Rome, and would not live 
As men good only for a year.* 



* Ben Jonson. I am aware that some modern historians throw doubt 

D 2 



36 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



Just above the modern marble wharf rise the abrupt 
heights of the Aventine hill. It is the highest of the 
ancient seven hills of Rome, and perhaps presents the most 
picturesque appearance. Legend says that Romulus and 
Remus desiring to build a city on the spot where they had 
been exposed and brought up, quarrelled as to whose name 
it should take, and that they determined to settle the 
matter by augury of birds. Upon this Romulus stationed 
himself on the Palatine and Remus on the Aventine. First 
Remus saw six vultures and then Romulus twelve, upon 
which Remus contended for priority of time, Romulus for 
superiority of number, whereupon the quarrel was renewed 
and Remus slain. Some say Remus was slain for jumping 
over Romulus' wall. To the circumstance of the augury 
has been attributed the name of this hill (from avis, a 
bird) ; others again derive it from Aventinus, one of the 
early kings. It used to be covered over with thick laurels, 
and had many mysterious old stories connected with it. One 
of these is told by Virgil in the eighth book of the JEneid, 
which is as follows : — On this hill was a cave, supposed to 
have been on the steep side facing the river, inhabited by a 
monster, half human in shape but wholly savage and 
imbruted in his nature. He was the son of Vulcan ; belch- 
ing forth hot flames from his den, slaying men, and pro- 
ducing much mischief. He was called Cacus. Hithei 
Hercules brought his herds to pasture, when Cacus, seizing 
upon four of his finest bulls and as many of his best heifers, 
dragged them up the hill by the tail, in order that they 
might not be tracked by their foot-prints, and so stowed 
them away in his cave. When Hercules was about to 
depart he missed the bulls and heifers which had been 
stolen, and searching for them he was not able to find 
them. Just as he was going away, however, his cattle 
beginning to low, one of them in the cave answered in the 
same manner. Hercules boiling with fury sought over the 



on the story of Cincinnatus. There is no reason however to doubt it, 
excepting for the rarity of so much disinterestedness. 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



37 



hill, at last discovering the mouth of the cave, which was 
closed by a huge stone. By pushing a larger mass of rock 
upon it from above the impediment was dislodged and the 
cave exposed to view. Cacus immediately began to vomit 
forth flames : but Hercules casting himself into the cave 
grappled with him and at last succeeded in strangling him. 
A periodical feast used to be kept in commemoration of 
the event. This legend has been supposed to refer to the 
early volcanic condition of the hill.* 

Another legend not less curious relating to this place, is 
told by Ovid in his ' Fasti.' The substance of it is as 
follows : — 

In the days of Numa the people were much dismayed by 
the heavy rains and the lightning which fell thickly and 
frequently. So that the priest-king consulted the goddess 
Egeria on the occasion. She bade him calm his fears, and 
told him that the lightning was to be averted by atonement, 
referring him for further instructions to Picus and Faunus, 
Roman divinities, at the same time telling him that they 
would afford him no information except by compulsion, 
and that he must secure them with chains when he caught 
them. At the foot of the Aventine hill there was a grove 
of oak, in the centre of which was a grassy plot and a 
constant stream of water trickling from the rock, which 
was covered with green moss. At this stream Faunus and 
Picus were accustomed to drink. Here Numa sacrificed a 
sheep, and then placed cups of wine about the fountain, 
concealing himself in a neighbouring grotto. Presently the 
forest gods came to refresh themselves, but instead of water, 
drank the wine that had been laid for them ; afterwards 
going to sleep. Then Numa issued from his hiding-place 
and fixed their hands in manacles. When the gods awoke 
they struggled in vain to free themselves. Then Numa 
stepped forwards and, asking forgiveness for what he had 
done, begged them to tell him how the lightnings might be 
averted. Faunus replied that he asked them a question 
* Virg. JEn. viii. 184. 



38 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. Ill 



which they could not answer, but promised to summon 
Jove himself to his assistance if he would only free them 
from their bonds. Upon this Numa set them at liberty ; 
whereupon the tops of the Aventine forest trembled and 
the earth yielded to the feet of Jove. Numa at .first was 
overcome by the vision, but presently recovering himself, 
stated his desire. Jove then told him that he must " cut 
off a head" "Of an onion in my garden," said Numa. 
"Nay, but of a man," said Jupiter. "Yes, the topmost 
hairs," said the other. " You must take a life," said Jove. 
" The life of a fish," replied Numa. Jove, diverted with the 
ingenious answers of Numa, laughed, and said, " See to it, 
then, that with these thou dost propitiate my missiles, thou 
man not to be daunted in a conference with the gods. 
Moreover, when to-morrow's sun shall have risen I will give 
thee the sure pledge of empire."* 

This promise was fulfilled the next day in the fall of the 
celestial shield, which was supposed to contain in its safety 
the welfare of the empire : so that in order that it might 
not be carried away, Numa caused a number of counterparts 
to be made, preserving the secret of the true one. The 
shields were periodically carried through the streets of Rome 
with dancing, festivities, and great rejoicings. 

Although fortified by Romulus, the Aventine was first 
included in the city by Ancus Martius. After Virginia had 
been slain by her father to protect her from the cruel 
violence of Appius Claudius, he and the soldiers he com- 
manded stationed themselves on the Aventine in rebellious 
opposition to the overgrown patrician power in the decem- 
virate, which was at that time abolished,. Subsequently 
Lucius Icilius, to whom Virginia had been betrothed, who 
had been made a tribune, caused the Aventine to be built 
upon for the special use and advantage of the people. 

There were many temples upon the hill. Amongst the 
most celebrated were those of Juno Regina, whose image 
Camillus brought from Veii at its fall, Jupiter Libertas built 

* Fasti, iii. 



£HAP. III. 



ROME. 



39 



by Caius Gracchus, Diana Aventina, and Bona Dea, the 
good goddess. 

Bona Dea, or Fauna, was sister, wife, or daughter of 
Faunus. She was the embodiment of chastity, her worship 
being wholly restricted to women. She only revealed her 
oracles to females. Her temple was built on the rocks of 
Aventine, " hating the eyes of men " (oculos exosa viriles). It 
was consecrated by Claudia, a maiden of reputed virtue. On 
the first of May, her festival was held in the house of some 
consul or praetor, probably in order that it might be more 
private, sacrifices being made for the whole Roman people. 
The Vestals conducted the worship, which was chiefly at- 
tended by women of the higher order. The statue of the 
goddess was decorated with vine leaves and had a serpent 
placed about its feet. The women also wore garlands, the 
house being adorned in the same manner ; the myrtle alone 
being excluded, because it was with a staff of myrtle that 
Faunus killed Fauna before she became a goddess. 

Once when these rites were being celebrated by Pompeia, 
the wife of Julius Caesar, Clodius, a libertine of illustrious 
family, introduced himself into the house in women's cloth- 
ing, with the desire of meeting Pompeia, whom it would 
appear was privy to his coming. Whilst her maid was in 
search of her Clodius was discovered by his voice, which 
caused a great uproar. The lights were extinguished and 
the proceedings broken up. When this came to the ears of 
Caesar he at once divorced Pompeia, and when it was urged 
that there could be no real accusation against her, made use 
of the memorable saying, that the wife of Caesar must be 
even above suspicion. 

Although the rites in honour of this goddess -doubtless 
.began in all earnestness and sincerity and from an elevated 
enthusiasm, yet if we are to believe the Latin satirical 
writer Juvenal, who flourished in the first century, they must 
have degenerated at that time to the worst and lowest forms 
of demoralization. 

Valerius Maximus relates that in the days of Servius 



4o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



Tullius, there was born an unusually large cow belonging 
to a patrician family in the Campo Sabina, whence the 
augurs and priests said that whoever sacrificed it at the 
temple of Diana on the Aventine, his country would have 
the empery of the world. Its owner on hearing this went 
with great joy to sacrifice the cow in order that the Sabine 
people might become rulers of the human race. The priest 
of the temple told him that before it was killed the sacrificer 
must wash his hands in the Tiber. Then whilst the Sabine 
went for that purpose, the priest sacrificed the cow himself, 
thus obtaining for the Roman people the advantage of the 
offering. 

The Aventine is associated with the fate of the fine- 
spirited reformer and friend of the people, Caius Gracchus. 
After the death of his brother Tiberius, who had laboured so 
hard in the same cause, Caius gave himself with no less 
vigour to withstand the oppressions of the nobles and pro- 
mote the freedom of the people. But at last, the opposite 
party being too strong for him, he was treacherously 
deserted by his own. Objecting that force should be used 
in the cause he advocated, he retired to the temple of Diana 
at the foot of this hill without drawing his sword, and would 
have put an end to his life if he had not been restrained 
It is said that he kneeled down here, and in the bitterness 
of his disappointment prayed that the Romans for their 
baseness and cowardice might never know the name of 
freedom. This happened near the temple dedicated to 
liberty which his grandfather had built. He thence fled 
over the Pons Sublicius to the grove of the goddess 
Furina, which was on the site of the modern hospital and 
prisons of San Michele ; where he was miserably slain, 
himself dealing the mortal blow. A reward of its weight in 
gold being offered for his head, it was filled with lead by 
one Septimuleius and borne to Opimius the consul, on the 
point of a spear. This was in the year one hundred and 
twenty before Christ, about thirteen years after the death 
of his brother. 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



41 



In considering the character of the ancient Roman people 
no trait is presented to us in a stronger light than that of 
their intense superstition; overbearing and blinding, in some 
directions, all judgment and reason. No expedition was 
organized without the omens being consulted. The dispo- 
sition of the entrails of a bird could influence or change the 
most reasonable and matured conclusions. A chance word, 
a false step, the sight of a bird or animal, any trivial occur- 
rence upon which faith in the supernatural could fix itself 
was seized upon to determine the most momentous occa- 
sions, to govern the most stupendous enterprises, to super- 
sede all the judgments of counsel and consideration. Of 
course their indomitable steadfastness in what they did 
undertake generally served them in the place of divinity, 
and no doubt to their half-reasoning minds, seemed to con- 
firm and justify their creed. Reported showers of stones, 
streams of blood, the spontaneous movement of statues, 
and other exorbitant phenomena were placed in the same 
category with the slightest deviation from ordinary law ; as 
for example, the birth of a malformed child or animal, or 
even the simple fall of the electric fluid. All these had to 
be expiated by solemn sacrifices to the gods on sacred days 
set especially apart for that purpose. The fundamental 
cause of this doubtless arose from that inward respect for 
law which formed the nature and essence of the Roman 
character, the slighest deviation from their conceptions of 
which was ranked with the supernatural and the monstrous. 
A curious and picturesque circumstance taking place on 
the spot under consideration affords an illustration of this. 
It is told by the historian Livy.* 

A shower of stones being reported to have - fallen at 
Veii ; a stream of blood having appeared, and a temple 
been struck by lightning at Minturna, as also a gate and a 
wall at Atella ; a wolf having torn a man at Capua, and a 
monstrous child been born at Frusino (which was cruelly 
placed into a chest and thrown into the sea), it was supposed 

* xxvii. 37. 



4 2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



the Divine Powers were angry and needed propitiation. 
Accordingly, thrice nine virgins were deputed to go through 
the city singing a hymn. Whilst they were learning this 
hymn in the temple of Jupiter Stator, the temple of Juno 
Regina on the Aventine was struck by lightning. This 
was construed into a prodigy appertaining to the matrons, 
who were required to bring a present to the goddess of the 
Aventine, both those of Rome and those within ten miles from 
it. This was accordingly done ; a contribution being made 
from their dowries, of which a gold basin was made and 
carried to the Aventine, a day being set apart for another 
sacrifice and procession ; which consisted of two white 
heifers led from the temple of Apollo through the Carmen- 
tal Gate, after which were borne two images in cypress of 
Juno Regina ; then came twenty-seven virgins all clothed 
in white, singing the praises of the same goddess : these 
were followed by the decemvirs crowned with laurel, and 
wearing purple-broidered robes. Arrived at the Forum the 
procession stopped, and the virgins, who were connected by 
a cord passing from hand to hand, moved, beating time 
with their feet to the music of their voices ; finally ascend- 
ing the Aventine, where the decemviri made a double 
sacrifice, depositing the cypress images in the temple. 

It is a striking picture. Often and often, standing at the foot 
of the hill in the bright sunshine, have I imagined the whole 
circumstance of this impressive ceremony, as if no decades 
of centuries intervened. I have seen in my mind's eye the 
procession pass along the streets of the city, the people 
looking on with hushed voices and serious faces : and then, 
the dance of the damsels in the forum, their lithe bodies 
moving to and fro, not springing in the blithe merriment of 
a festival, but scarcely lifting their feet from the ground, as 
their treble voices swell the solemn hymn and a feeling of 
awe creeps over the minds of the spectators ; and, last of 
all, the train of sacrifice, followed by the matrons of the city 
and adjoining country, with a vast concourse of people in 
their wake, slowly winding the heights of the Aventine to 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



45 



its summit, until they stand in front of the altar smoking in 
the dim and magnificent temple before the colossal figure 
of Juno erect in dignified majesty, the object of reverence 
to all eyes. 

But now no longer is the ■" seat of Juno eternal on the 
Aventine." It became gradually less populous from the 
sixth century, though not actually abandoned till the tenth. 
In the thirteenth century there was an attempt to revive its 
condition under Pope Honorius, but this was ineffectual. 
It is now for the most part disused as a place of residence 
on account of its unhealthiness, and partly, perhaps, on 
account of its elevation. It is principally covered by walled 
vineyards and waste corners that bear no trace of its former 
population, its convents and churches forming almost its 
sole structures. Of the latter of these (two of them with 
convents attached) there are three on the steepest part, 
facing the river. 

The first is generally called that of the Priorato from the 
priory attached to it, belonging to the renowned Knights of 
Malta. This order was a union of the military and religious 
functions. It originated in the year one thousand and forty- 
eight in a hospital built in the East by some people of 
Amain to succour pilgrims visiting the holy sepulchre. It 
afterwards extended widely, numbering the rich and great 
amongst its members. Its principal establishment in 
England was the priory at Clerkenvvell, the chief of which 
had a seat in the upper House of Parliament, and was styled 
First Baron of England. In the height of its prosperity the 
brotherhood was bound by religious vows, giving itself 
specially to the succour of the sick and befriending of 
pilgrims. It nourished greatly during the middle-ages, and 
though for some time not much more than a name, only 
appears to have died absolutely out at the beginning of the 
present century. This church adjoining their priory contains 
several very fine Renaissance monuments in which the effigies 
of some of these old world heroes, noisy enough in their day, 
no doubt, sleep quietly and unnoticed now in dusty marble. 



44 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. 



Chap. III. 



In this monastery Hildebrand, afterwards Pope Gregory 
the Seventh, passed his early years under the care of his 
uncle, who was the abbot. This remarkable man was born 
of poor parents at Soana in Tuscany, as is generally sup- 
posed, though this has been disputed, in the year one 
thousand and twenty. His education was completed in the 
monastery of Cluny in France, after which he returned to 
Rome, and taking orders, was afterwards entrusted with 
the full management of affairs under Alexander the Second, 
ultimately obtaining the position of cardinal. When 
Alexander died and the funeral was going forward at the 
church of St. John Lateran, the cry arose on all hands, " It 
is Hildebrand whom St. Peter elects as his successor !" At 
first he resisted, but finally accepted the pontificate, at the 
same time writing to King Henry the Fourth of Germany, 
requesting him not to sanction the election ; assuring him 
that if he did so, he should visit his conduct for several 
abuses and scandals with great severity. The prerogative of 
sanctioning the appointment of a new pontiff was at that 
time the privilege of the German crown ; this being the last 
occasion upon which it was used. Henry, however, without 
more ado, ratified the election, sending a prelate to attend 
the consecration who was not even in priest's orders. 

No sooner had Gregory attained the throne than he at once 
began his attack upon the prevalent abuses of the time, the 
incontinence of the clergy and secular investiture, or the 
control of the laity over the benefices of the church. 
Against this latter reform Henry rebelled, which brought 
matters to such a condition, that the pope excommunicated 
him, absolving all his subjects from the oath of their 
allegiance. This produced a rebellion in the empire, so 
that Henry, in order to keep his imperial seat, was compelled 
to go and ask pardon and absolution of the pope. He 
went. It was winter and the most inclement of seasons 
when he passed over Mont Cenis with his wife, undergoing 
much difficulty and incredible hardships. He found the 
pope at Conossa in North Italy on a visit to the Countess 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



45 



Matilda, who was there entrenched in a strong fortress. 
Three days elapsed before the pope would receive him, 
three days he stood between the inner and outer cincture of 
the fortress, his retainers and attendants being outside, 
bare-footed, bare-headed, fasting till the evening, expecting 
the pope's message. At last it came. He was ushered 
into the presence, and there obtained the benefits of abso- 
lution and benediction. They were seeming friends, and 
sat down together at table in amicable converse ; but it was 
for the last time. 

As soon as Henry had subdued the rebellion, by crushing 
its head, the Duke of Suabia, he once more set the pope at 
defiance. Gregory then recognised the vanquished Rodolph 
of Suabia as emperor of Germany, whilst Henry on the 
other hand proceeded at once to raise up an antipope in the 
person of the Archbishop of Ravenna as Clement the Third. 
Pressing his advantage still further, Henry found himself in 
Rome in possession of the city (his army occupying the 
position of this very hill), the unfortunate Gregory being 
compelled to shut himself up in the castle-fortress of St. 
Angelo. Here it might have gone hard with him had not 
the Norman adventurer Robert Guiscard, whom the pope 
had made duke of Apulia, come forward with a large force 
and set him at liberty. Upon this Henry withdrew his troops, 
fearing to meet the larger force of the Norman. The pope 
was then escorted to Salerno by Robert, where he died in 
the year one thousand and eighty-five ; his last words, " I have 
loved justice and hated iniquity, therefore I die in exile." 

The view from the terrace-garden of this convent is very 
beautiful. Through a vista of ilex trees the dome of 
St. Peter overtops the town. The river leads the eye 
through the city with its quaint bridges and ancient bell- 
towers, as it flows between this hill and the Janiculum on 
the other side. It is a true conventual residence. The 
noises of the world only reach it in muffled and subdued 
tones. Heaven is above it and the world beneath it. 
What more can the aspiring soul require ? 



46 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



Adjoining this is the church of St. Alessio, or Alexius. 
It is said to be situated upon the place called Armilustrum, 
where the ancient feast for the purification of arms used to 
be held in early Roman days. It is here also that we are 
told the Sabine king Tatius, one of the founders of the city 
with Romulus, was buried. The first church occupying this 
position was built where stood the house of Euphemianus 
the father of Alexius, in the ninth century. It was origin- 
ally dedicated to St. Boniface. The legend of Alexius is 
amongst the most interesting and romantic in the whole 
calendar. It is thus told by Mrs. Jameson in her ' Sacred 
and Legendary Art.' 

" In the days when Innocent the First was pope, and 
Arcadius and Honorius reigned over the East and West, 
there lived a man in Rome whose name was Euphemian, 
rich and of senatorial rank. He had a house and great 
possessions on the Aventine hill, but he had no son to 
inherit his wealth. He and his wife, whose name was 
Aglae, besought the Lord earnestly to grant them off- 
spring. And their prayer was heard ; for after many 
years they had a son, and called him Alexis. And Alexis 
from his childhood had devoted himself to the service of 
God, and became remarked by all for his humility, his 
piety, and his charity. Although outwardly he went 
clothed in silk and gold, as became his rank, yet he wore 
a hair shirt next his body ; and though he had a smiling 
and pleasant countenance towards all, yet in his chamber 
he wept incessantly, bewailing his own sinful state and 
that of the world, and made a secret vow to devote himself 
wholly to the service of God. 

"And when he was of a proper age his father wished 
him to marry, and chose out for his wife a maiden of noble 
birth, beautiful and graceful and virtuous, one whom it was 
impossible to look on without being irresistibly attracted. 
Alexis, who had never disobeyed his parents from his 
infancy upwards, trembled within himself for the vow he 
had spoken, and seeing his bride, how fair she was and how 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



47 



virtuous, he trembled yet the more ; but he did not dare 
to gainsay the words of his father. On the appointed day, 
the nuptials were celebrated with great pomp and festivity ; 
but when evening came, the bridegroom had disappeared, 
and- they sought him everywhere in vain ; and when they 
questioned the bride, she answered, ' Behold, he came into 
my chamber, and gave me this ring of gold, and this girdle 
of precious stones, and this veil of purple, and then he bade 
me farewell, and I know not whither he is gone!' And 
they were all astonished, and, seeing he returned not, they 
gave themselves up to grief ; his mother spread sackcloth 
on the earth, and sprinkled it with ashes, and sat down 
upon it ; and his wife took off" her jewels and bridal robes, 
and darkened her windows, and put on widow's attire, 
weeping continually : and Euphemian sent servants and 
messengers to all parts of the world to seek his son, but he 
was nowhere to be found. 

" In the meantime, Alexis, after taking leave of his 
bride, disguised himself in the habit of a pilgrim, fled from 
his father's house, and throwing himself into a little 
boat, he reached the mouth of the Tiber. At Ostia he 
embarked in a vessel bound for Laodicea, and thence he 
repaired to Edessa, a city of Mesopotamia, and dwelt 
there in great poverty and humility, spending his days in 
ministering to the sick and poor, and in devotion to the 
Madonna, until the people, who beheld his great piety, 
cried out, 'A saint!' Then, fearing for his virtue, he left 
that place, and embarked in a ship bound for Tarsus, in 
order to pay his devotions to St. Paul. But a great tempest 
arose, and after many days the ship, instead of reaching the 
desired port, was driven to the mouth of the Tiber, and 
entered the port of Ostia. 

" When Alexis found himself again near his native home, 
he thought, ' It is better for me to live by the charity of my 
parents than to be a burthen to strangers;' and, hoping 
that he was so much changed that no one would recognize 
him, he entered Rome. As he approached his father's 



48 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



house, he saw him come forth with a great retinue of 
servants, and, accosting him humbly, besought a corner of 
refuge beneath his roof, and to eat of the crumbs which fell 
from his table : and Euphemian, looking on him, knew not 
that it was his son ; nevertheless, he felt his heart moved 
with unusual pity, and granted his petition, thinking within 
himself, 'Alas for my son Alexis ! perhaps he is now a 
wanderer and poor, even as this man.' So he gave Alexis 
in charge to his servants, commanding that he should have 
all things needful. 

" But, as it often happens with rich men who have many 
servitors and slaves, Euphemian was ill obeyed ; for, be- 
lieving Alexis to be what he appeared, a poor, ragged 
way-worn beggar, they gave him no other lodging than a 
hole under the marble steps which led to his father's door, 
and all who passed and repassed looked on his misery ; 
and the servants, seeing that he bore all uncomplainingly, 
mocked at him, thinking him an idiot, and pulled his 
matted beard, and threw dirt on his head ; but he endured 
in silence. A far greater trial was to witness every day the 
grief of his mother and his wife ; for his wife, like another 
Ruth, refused to go back to the house of her fathers ; and, 
often, as he lay in his dark hole under the steps, he heard 
her weeping in her chamber, and crying, * O my Alexis ! 
whither art thou gone ? Why hast thou espoused me only 
to forsake me ? ' And, hearing her thus tenderly lamenting 
and upbraiding his absence, he was sorely tempted ; never- 
theless he remained steadfast. 

"Thus many years passed away, until his emaciated 
frame sank under his sufferings, and it was revealed to 
him that he should die. Then he procured from a servant 
of the house pen and ink, and wrote a full account of all 
these things, and all that had happened to him in his life, 
and put the letter in his bosom, expecting death. 

" It happened about this time, on a certain feast day, 
that Pope Innocent was celebrating high mass before the 
Emperor Honorius and all his court, and suddenly a voice 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



49 



was heard which said, ' Seek the servant of God who is 
about to depart from this life, and who shall pray for the 
city of Rome ! ' So the people fell on their faces, and 
another voice said, 'Where shall we seek him ?' And the 
first voice answered, ' In the house of Euphemian the patri- 
cian.' And Euphemian was standing next to the emperor, 
who said to him, ' What ! hast thou such a treasure in thy 
house, and hast not divulged it ? Let us now repair thither 
immediately.' So Euphemian went before to prepare the 
way ; and as he approached his house, a servant met him, 
saying, 'The poor beggar whom thou hast sheltered has 
died within this hour, and we have laid him on the steps 
before the door.' And Euphemian ran up the steps and 
uncovered the face of the beggar, and it seemed to him the 
face of an angel, such a glory of light proceeded from it ; 
and his heart melted within him, and he fell on his knees. 
And as the emperor and his court came near, he said, 
'This is the servant of God of whom the voice spake just 
now.' And when the pope saw the letter which was in the 
dead hand of Alexis, he humbly asked him to deliver it ; 
and the hand relinquished it forthwith, and the chancellor 
read it aloud before all the assembly. 

" But now what words shall describe the emotions of his 
father when he knew that it was his son who lay before 
him ? and how the mother and the wife, rushing forth dis- 
tracted, flung themselves on the senseless body, and could 
with difficulty be separated from it ? and how for seven 
days they watched and wept beside him ? and how the 
people crowded to touch his sacred remains, and many 
sick and infirm were healed thereby ? But all this I pass 
over ; let it suffice that on the spot where stood the house 
of .Euphemian, the church of St. Alexis now stands. The 
marble steps beneath which he died are preserved in the 
church, in a chapel to the left of the entrance, and beneath 
them is seen the statue of the saint lying extended on a 
mat, in the mean dress of a poor pilgrim, his staff beside 
him and the letter in his hand." 

E 



5o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



The third and adjoining church is that of Santa Sabina. 
It is in the basilica form. It was first built in the year four 
hundred and twenty-five, on the site of the house of the 
saint from whom it takes its name. It has been frequently 
restored. It consists of a nave and two side aisles, sepa- 
rated by twenty-four antique Corinthian columns of fluted 
white marble, of uniform height and thickness. It is sup- 
posed that these columns formerly belonged to the temple 
of Juna Regina, which probably stood here. In the convent 
attached to this church, St. Dominic once dwelled. An 
old orange tree, planted by his hand, still stands an object 
of reverence in the garden. It w r as here that Thomas 
Aquinas secluded himself, in order to be out of the reach of 
the importunities of his relations, who wished to dissuade 
him from the religious life. 

More removed from the river, is the church of Santa 
Prisca, which, tradition says, occupies the site of the house 
where St. Peter lived whilst in Rome, adding many souls 
to the church. 

Leaving the Aventine, the range of white buildings on the 
left includes the hospital, schools, and prison of San Michele. 
Stretching in front of it is the Ripa Grande, or port of the 
river, beneath whose tall beacon-tower numerous vessels 
lie with sails furled. A little beyond this we come upon 
the foundations of the old Pons Sublicius, only to be seen 
when the river is low. This, the oldest and most celebrated 
of the Roman bridges, was built by Ancus Martius. After 
frequent repairs it was totally destroyed by a flood in the 
eighth century. This is the bridge that Horatius Codes is 
said to have defended so bravely, single-handed, against 
the van of an army. The banished Tarquins in their wish 
to reinstate themselves, had fled for assistance to Lars 
Porsena of Clusium, the renowned king of a powerful 
people, who accordingly marched against Rome with an 
allied army of vast numbers. After making himself master 
of the Janiculum, a long range of rising ground here 
flanking the course of the river, he thought also, without 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



5i 



much more trouble, to do the same by the city. But on 
approaching it, he found its near banks lined with Roman 
troops. A very severe engagement then immediately com- 
menced, in which the Romans, finding themselves worsted, 
strove to regain the city ; but the ingress being limited to 
this one bridge, it threatened to fall into the hands of the 
enemy, had not the bravery of Publius Horatius, — or 
Horatius Codes, as he was called, from having lost one of 
his eyes in battle — and two others, Spurius Lartius and 
Titus Herminius, prevented it. They stood their ground, 
fighting bravely until the whole of the army had passed 
the bridge, when the two latter retired. But Horatius, 
calling out that they should break the bridge behind him, 
still maintained the fight, until the shouts of the Romans 
had told him that it was accomplished, when, weary and 
wounded, he jumped into the river, with difficulty regaining 
the other side. 

One may imagine the joy with which he was welcomed, 
with no more serious wound than was curable ; and with 
what an honourable halt he limped through life ever after- 
wards. On the moment, he was crowned, and conducted 
into the city with songs, everybody rushing out to look at 
him with wild and delirious joy. From bare stores each 
individual contributed to his provision ; and not only had 
he as much land allotted to him as he could plough round 
in one day with a yoke of oxen, but also, whilst he was 
still living, his bronze statue stood in the most conspicuous 
part of the Forum, a continual witness of his bravery and 
the value his nation set upon it. 

It was during this war that Mucius Scaevola, having 
crossed the river for the purpose of assassinating Porsena, 
when found out thrust his hand into the fire to show his 
indifference to bodily suffering ; and the Roman maiden, 
Clcelia, swam over it with a band of her companions who 
had been given in hostage to the Etrurian king. 

Dionysius mentions a very peculiar ceremony which used 
to take place on this bridge. He says that in the earliest 



52 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. Ill- 



days of ancient Rome, human victims were sacrificed to 
the god Saturn as the deity of universal Nature ; but that 
Hercules, wishing to abolish these, instituted other sacrifices 
to be immolated on an altar of fire, allowing the people to 
retain so much of their custom as to bind figures in the 
likeness of men, hand and foot, and cast them into the 
Tiber, in order to satisfy any lingering superstition they 
might have. This ceremony was retained long afterwards. 
In the middle of May each year the priests assembled, after 
having made sacrifices, together with the Vestal virgins, 
the praetors, and citizens, on the sacred bridge [Pons 
Sublicius], and thence cast into the river thirty pageants 
resembling men, which they called Argivi. Ovid, in speak- 
ing of the same ceremony, says these dummies were made 
of rushes, and thrown into the river by the Vestal virgins. 
To learn the origin of this custom he invokes the spirit of 
the Tiber — the old river-god — who informs him that it 
arose from the ancient Argive settlers desiring that their 
bodies might be thrown into the river at their death, so 
that, perchance, they might be washed on to the shores of 
their native land. But that afterwards, the custom being 
displeasing to the survivors, these effigies were substituted. 

On the right of the river, between the remains of the 
Sublician Bridge and the Island, the inconsiderable stream 
of the Marana (ancient Acqua Crabra) flows into the Tiber, 
near to which, on the same side, is the Piazza della Bocca 
della Verita, which takes its name from a large-mouthed 
antique mask, which probably formed the outlet to some 
fountain or the opening of a drain in the impluvium or 
central court of a house. There was a mediaeval tradition 
that if a person making a deposition on oath were to place 
his hand within the mouth of the mask, perjury would be 
punished by his not being able to withdraw it. Here 
between the Tiber on the one hand and the Palatine and 
the Aventine on the other, were the Velabrum and Forum 
Boarium, used as markets in the more developed condition 
of the ancient city : in its early days, before the Cloaca 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



53 



Maxima had been constructed, their whole extent was 
nothing but an undrained marsh covered with stagnant 
pools of water. Several temples were situated here : one 
to Hercules, one to Fortuna, and another to Mater Matula ; 
yet, although two of them still remain in tolerable preserva- 
tion, archaeologists differ as to the name to be attached to 
each, as well as in respect to the position of the third. The 
elegant little circular structure commonly called the temple 
of Vesta, has no sort of authority for its name. The temple 
of Vesta, in which the ancile or sacred shield was kept, 
alluded to by Horace as having been thrown down by an 
inundation of the river, must have been nearer the Forum. 
Bunsen believes this structure to have been a temple of 
Cybele, Canina that of Mater Matula. Standing imme- 
diately above the river, it forms a beautiful and picturesque 
object. It once consisted of a fine peristyle of twenty 
fluted columns of marble, one of them being now destroyed. 
The entablature also is lost. It is now turned into a little 
chapel, though not used ; the roof being covered with red tiles. 

The other temple, called that of Fortuna Virilis, the 
name of which has also been disputed, is said to have been 
first raised in the time of the kings, but has been subse- 
quently rebuilt and restored. It is constructed of travertine 
and tufa. There are four columns at the front and seven 
at the side remaining visible. The interspaces are walled up, 
as it is also used now as a modern church. The columns 
are Ionic and support a fine entablature and frieze with the 
heads of oxen and garlands sculptured upon it. Close by 
this temple is a rich and elaborately carved archway of 
white marble raised by the bankers and cattle merchants of 
the place in honour of the fratricidal emperor ^Caracalla. 
The representation of his brother has evidently occupied a 
position near to that of his own, but has been erased, the in- 
scription also having been altered. What is left of the sculp- 
tured form of the emperor is noticeable as being in strong 
and favourable contrast with his bust in the Capitol, in which 
every evil thought and malicious intention appear to meet. 



54 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



To complete the list of antique monuments in this place 
must be mentioned a four-pierced arch, that of Janus in the 
Velabrum, such as it is supposed stood sometimes at cross- 
roads. It is a very solid structure of white marble, but is 
heldTto be of the declining period, probably that of Septimius 
Severus, that is, the second or third century of our era. 

Just at the foot of the bridge are the remains of an 
ancient mansion of brick with some ornate mouldings, some 
antique fragments being built into the wall. There is a long 
Latin inscription upon it from which it has been conjectured 
to have belonged to the tribune Cola di Rienzo. The archi- 
tecture has been supposed to be of the eleventh century. 

Livy tells us that shortly after the battle of Cannae (two 
hundred and sixteen years before Christ) several prodigies 
having occurred, amongst the rest, two Vestal virgins 
having broken their vows whilst a messenger was being- 
sent to Delphi to inquire of the oracle, extraordinary 
sacrifices were made ; a Gallic man and woman and a 
Greek man and woman being let down alive into a pit 
fenced round with stone, in the Cattle Market (Forum 
Boarium) — not the first victims it had received, he says ; a 
proceeding which he condemns as not being generically a 
Roman rite. 

This place is also notable as having been the spot upon 
which the first gladiatorial combat took place in Rome — 
given on occasion of the funeral of the father of Marcus 
and Decius Brutus, two hundred and sixty-four years before 
Christ. 

On the side of the piazza farthest from the river is the 
church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, attached to which rises 
a mediaeval campanile, the tallest, as it is one of the finest 
in Rome. The church, too, is very interesting, though it 
has been much spoilt by restorations and alterations. It 
was founded by Adrian the First late in the eighth century, 
and rebuilt early in the thirteenth by Alfanus, a Roman 
chancellor, whose epitaph attributes to him the large 
distinction of having been ' an honest man ' (vir probus). 



Chap. III. 



ROME. 



55 



Just below the little round temple the Cloaca Maxima 
empties itself into the river. This is considered one of the 
most stupendous engineering works of antiquity. Livy 
attributes it to Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome. 
It is an immense stone archway constructed of large blocks 
of peperino, some of them nearly five feet in length and 
more than three in thickness, put together without cement, 
for the purpose of a drain or sewer. The inner vaulting 
reaches to the height of twelve feet. It passes from the 
region of the Velabrum to the Tiber, a distance of eight 
hundred feet. It formed the outlet of the principal part of 
the sewerage of ancient Rome, and even now remains 
apparently as solid and firm as when it was first built. 

Near the Cloaca Maxima may be traced very substantial 
remains of a travertine structure — in good solid blocks — 
which is supposed to be the " pulchrum littus " or quay 
formed in the very earliest days of ancient Rome. Nearly 
opposite to this are some huge heads of lions, also in stone, 
projecting from the bank, discovered by Mr. Parker a few 
years ago. They were used for the purpose of attaching 
vessels. i^Here the river is spanned by the Ponte Rotto or 
Broken Bridge : it is the ancient Pons ^Emilius completed 
in the second century before Christ. It has undergone 
subsequent restorations. In the year fifteen hundred and 
ninety-eight a severe flood carried away two arches. The 
deficiency is now supplied by a suspension bridge, which 
joins the remaining portion to the other shore. At its piers 
are fixed revolving nets made in the shape of a shallow purse 
or bag, fixed upon cross bars, which thus turn by the force 
of the stream, depositing their spoils, when there are any^ 
into a piece of canvas stretched at the side to receive them. 
From this bridge the body of the monster Heliogabalus was 
thrown into the river. It might have been a favourite place 
for suicides, since Juvenal, in one of his satires, facetiously 
asks his friend Postumus, why he should think of getting 
married as long as there are halters and lofty windows and 
the ^Emilian Bridge is so ready at hand. The views from 



56 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 



it, both up and down, are very commanding, and embrace 
some of the most notable sites and objects of the ancient 
and mediaeval city. 

Another conspicuous object on the left is the Tower of 
Anguillara. It was once one of the most formidable of 
those numerous castles of the Middle Ages, the occupiers 
of which kept Rome in continual embroilment. Dreadful 
places they were ; rightly styled by Petrarch " proud towers, 
enemies of heaven." Rome once bristled with them. Even 
now the gloomy walls and narrow loophole windows of 
those which remain bear a sinister aspect, frowning in 
the sunshine as though they belonged to the kingdom of 
darkness rather than the free and unsuspicious realm of 
day. The very manner of their fabrication spoke of faction 
and the bitterness of party. The flat turret indicated 
adherence to the Ghibelline cause ; a triangular indentation 
cut on the summit, attachment to the opposite Guelph 
interest ; as did also cross frame-work in the windows. On 
their ground floors were frequently constructed horrible 
instruments of feudal revenge and tyranny called traboc- 
chetti : trap-doors being made to allow the miserable victims 
who passed over them to fall into dark prison-like wells, 
closed alike from rescue and discovery. These were some- 
times shaped to a point at the bottom, so that the un- 
fortunate wretches who became immured within them could 
not even stand upon their feet or retain any posture of 
repose for a single moment. 

Of the fortification of the Anguillara stronghold there is 
not much left beyond the tower, a facade wall, and a brick 
archway. The top of the tower is now put to a very 
different purpose. Between the roof and the walls there is 
an open space forming a kind of loggia which commands a 
fine view of the surrounding country. At the season of 
Christmas a mimic representation of the Nativity is con- 
structed called the Presepio, and artfully placed to receive 
the Campagna and Alban hills as a background, by means 
of which a very pretty artistic effect is obtained. 



Chap. IV. 



( 57 ) 



CHAPTER IV. 

ROME. FROM THE ISLAND TO THE 
PONS TRIUMPHA LIS. 

HEN we stand upon some of Rome's most classic 



V V spots it is impressive to recall the words of the 
elegiac poet Propertius, in which he addresses the stranger, 
calling upon him to look round on all that lies before him 
of the mighty city in the pride of its pomp, and bidding 
him remember that before the coming of yEneas it was no- 
thing but a grassy mound upon which the herds of Evander 
strayed and fed, that the temples glittering before him in all 
their splendour at first only rose in honour of earthenware 
gods, when a rude shrine was no shame, and Jupiter thun- 
dered from a bare rock ; when the sole living creatures the 
Tiber met on its way were the oxen that grazed upon its 
banks, and the rocky shelves of the Aventine were the only 
hearth of the little brotherhood of Remus, and were rule 
and kingdom enough for them. It is impressive to recall 
this and look round with the expansive gaze of to-day. Of 
all the gold and marble that dignified the verse of the poet 
nothing left but heaps of crumbling dust and a denuded 
name ! Once more rank weeds choke the place of palaces, 
and the costly shrine is usurped by mean habitations and 
noisome heaps of rubbish. The very gods have vanished 
before the potency of inductive science, leaving no trace 
behind them but the broken fragments of their marble 
effigies. 

There is perhaps no place in Rome which offers so strong 




53 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV 



a contrast between the past and the present as the one we 
have now reached, that is, the Sacred Island "which the 
river surrounds with its divided wave," and the adjacent 
banks ; for it was chiefly here that the ancient city stood ; 
and not at the northern extremity, which constitutes the 
more fashionable quarter of modern times. 

The story given of the origin of this island is a curious 
one. Higher up the river, and on the right or more 
northerly side of it, occupying, perhaps, the greater part of 




ISLAND OF THE TIBER. 

the ground upon which the modern city is built, was aTlarge 
field or open space which in early days had been conse- 
crated by public decrees to the god Mars, and was used by 
the youth of Rome whereon to practise martial and gym- 
nastic exercises. It was called the Campus Martius, a 
name which is still given to a part of the same district, 
though it is now covered with houses. This ground had 
been taken by the last of the tyrant kings Tarquinius, for 
his own property, and sown with corn. On his banishment 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



59 



through the instrumentality of Brutus, the royal effects were 
given over to the people, all except the produce of this field, 
which then stood ripe to harvest, or, perhaps, already 
reaped ; but as the ground had been dedicated to a sacred 
purpose, it was not thought lawful to make use of it : it was 
therefore thrown into the river, with whatever shrubs and 
trees had grown there ; thence floating down to where the 
island now stands. Being here arrested, the silt of the 
river accumulated upon and around it, resulting in the for- 
mation of this island, though probably it has been artificially 
modified at various times. 

The story of its consecration is told by Livy and Ovid. 
It is an old fable, but full of significancies. 

In the fifteenth century of the city, a little less than three 
hundred years before the birth of Christ, a dire contagion 
spread itself, not only over Rome, but the whole country of 
Latium, insomuch that the people, distracted with so many 
deaths, sent messengers to Delphi to consult the oracle as 
to what means should be taken to cause its termination. 
The Delphic reply told them that they must seek their 
remedy nearer home ; for that it was not Apollo but 
Apollo's son whom they wanted. On further inquiry they 
were directed to Epidaurus in Argolis, where they were 
assured they should find him whom they sought. Thither 
they accordingly went, and summoning the elders, informed 
them of the words of the oracle and besought them that 
they might carry away the divinity which they had come in 
search of. Upon this there was a great consultation, some 
contending that the image should be permitted to be taken 
away, others again as strongly advocating that it should be 
retained. Thus they deliberated until nightfall, when the 
consideration was deferred ; the Roman leader being left in 
the temple. As he slept in the night he had a dream, and 
in his dream the statue of the god became animated, 
bidding him mark the serpent that entwined his staff, and 
telling him that he should be transformed into a similar 
serpent, but of vastly larger dimensions, as became a god. 



6o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



When the assembly met again in the morning they be- 
sought the god to let them know his will and pleasure by 
an indication as to what course of conduct they ought to 
pursue. As they thus accosted the statue, the god himself 
suddenly emerged from the foot of the altar in the form of 
a snake of enormous proportions covered with glistening 
plates of gold, shaking the whole structure from marble 
pavement to gilded roof. As he erected himself, rolling 
his eyes of fire, the priest who stood by with his hair bound 
in a white fillet, raised the cry, " Behold the god !" assuring 
the people and praying that the nation might be assisted 
in their rites. The serpent hissing loudly three times, 
turned round as if to bid farewell to the temple, and then 
glided over the polished pavement strewed with flowers, 
taking his way to the ship which lay in the harbour. When 
he reached the vessel he placed himself within it, resting his 
head upon the stern. They sailed many days until they 
arrived at Antium, where they were obliged to put in shore 
on account of stress of weather. Here the god, abandoning 
the ship, went to pay a visit to the shrine of his parent 
Apollo, and then returning, placed himself within it as 
before. Thus entering the Tiber, notice having already 
been received of their coming, they were welcomed by a vast 
assemblage of persons. On each side of the river, altars were 
erected, from which dense fumes of incense rose into the 
air. When they came to Rome, the serpent raised himself 
as if looking for a place of habitation, and here, where the 
river extends its arms on either side, leaving this island in 
the middle, he forsook the ship, and resuming his celestial 
form, brought health and happiness to the afflicted city. 

The fable probably originated in the fact of an ordinary 
serpent having escaped from the vessel on to the island 
when the image was brought there : quite enough for the 
superstitious minds of the Romans to form a supernatural 
theory upon. 

It was in commemoration of this event that the island 
was fashioned into the form of a ship. Huge blocks of 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



61 



travertine and peperino still remain about the prow 
(pointing down the stream), imitating on a grand scale the 
form of planks upon which are chiselled the figure of a 
serpent twined about a rod, and, farther down, the head of 
an ox. A temple was raised to yEsculapius, in which his 
statue was placed, which probably stood in the fore part of 
the simulated vessel, hospitals for the sick occupying the 
sides, a tall column or obelisk rising in the midst to repre- 
sent a mast ; temples were also dedicated to Jupiter and 
to Faunus. To these was added a prison, in the days of 
Tiberius, in which persons of distinction upon whom a sen- 
tence of death had been passed, were confined for ten days 
previously to execution ; their respite afterwards being 
extended to thirty. 

The sick persons who visited the temple of ^Esculapius 
hoping for a cure, generally remained within it one or two 
nights. It was then supposed that the god appeared to 
them in a dream revealing the means of their recovery. 
Sometimes, under conditions prescribed by the priests, 
parents were permitted to expose their children on this 
island. Sick slaves also, whose recovery was either doubtful 
or tedious, were brought hither and abandoned. Claudius 
enacted that should a slave so renounced survive, he should 
have his liberty. 

The island is now called San Bartolomeo from a church 
probably built on the site of the old temple of ^Esculapius, 
dedicated to that saint. This church was founded by Otho 
the Third, in the year one thousand. It is in the old basilica 
form. Twenty-four antique columns of red granite, sup- 
posed to have belonged to the ancient temple, divide the 
nave from the aisles. It is said to contain the body of St. 
Bartholomew. This, however, is contested by the inha- 
bitants of Benevento, who profess to have the real body in 
their keeping. 

As if to maintain its ancient character, there is a modern 
hospital on the island belonging to the order of St. John 
Calabita (a Spanish saint by whom it was founded), into 



62 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



which all comers are received, of whatever nationality. Such 
an institution in such a place perhaps marks more strongly 
than anything else the march of centuries, the difference 
between then and now, the wide contrast between Christian 
compassion and pagan superstition and cruelty. 

The island is joined to the mainland by two bridges, 
one on either side : the one to the left called Ponte di San 
Bartolomeo (the ancient Pons Cestius), the other Ponte 
Quattro Capi (ancient Pons Fabricius). This bridge obtains 
its modern name from some four-headed Januses which 
surmount the parapet. The first, which is to the left 
looking up the stream, joins the island to that part of 
Rome known as the Trastevere, or transtiberine quarter, 
which is supposed to contain a more distinctively ancient 
Roman type of race than that on the north-west of the river. 
This bridge was built about fifty years before the com- 
mencement of the Christian era by the praetor Lucius 
Cestius, who may have been the father of that Caius whose 
monumental pyramid has already passed under notice. It 
was restored in the year three hundred and seventy of 
our reckoning, by the Emperors Valentinian, Valens, and 
Gratian, as may still be read on the inner parapet wall. 
The other bridge, Pons Fabricius, connecting the island 
with the opposite shore, was built some twenty or thirty 
years later. This bridge is mentioned by Horace in one 
of his satires, in which he makes the dilettante Damasippus 
say, that being desperate, he stood upon it, with his head 
covered, ready to cast himself into the waters, when his 
friend Stertinius coming by persuaded him to become a 
stoic instead.* 

The views from these bridges are very picturesque. 
Quaint abutments and arched jetties stretch themselves 
into the river, the trasteverine channel of which is filled 
with old black floating water-mills with slow-revolving 
wheels, each surmounted by the pious symbol of a cross. 
These mills are interesting as having been first used by 

* Sat. II. iii. 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



63 



Belisarius when Rome was besieged by the Goths in the 
year five hundred and thirty seven : the aqueducts having 
been broken and the streams arrested that turned the 
mills of the Janiculum. As the use of horses or mules 
would have caused an increased consumption of the 
diminishing stores of the city, Belisarius placed these mills 
where the current of the river was the strongest. The 
Goths becoming aware of this, turned large logs and tree- 
trunks down the stream, which at first were productive of 
some damage, until a strong chain placed across not only 
averted the mischief, but caused a barrier to be formed 
which kept out the boats of the enemy. 

Close to the Ponte Quattro Capi on the island there is 
a tower which has been evidently cut down from its 
original altitude. It has a noticeable name in history from 
its having been occupied by the Countess Matilda, and 
formed the asylum of the popes Victor the Third and 
Urban the Second. This remarkable champion of the 
church was the daughter of Boniface, Count of Modena 
and Marquis of Tuscany. She was born in the year one 
thousand and forty-six. Partly from her father and partly 
from her deceased husband she inherited the ride of the 
most extensive states in Italy. A widow at thirty, and 
without any children, she gave herself wholly to the pro- 
tection and aggrandizement of the papacy. Endowed with 
a strength of mind and character beyond her sex, her attain- 
ments and energies placed her amongst the foremost person- 
ages of her time. She spoke the languages of the various 
soldiers who served under her banner, and corresponded in 
several tongues. She not only collected a comprehensive 
library, but caused a new code of civil law to be drawn up 
* by capable persons. She headed her own troops in battle. 
She was cheerful, cool, courageous, and of good bodily 
presence : probably, however, not of very warm or tender 
affections, or else these qualities were overborne by the 
more vigorous and masculine ones, since she separated 
from both her husbands ; her marriage with the second 



6 4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



having been only dictated by prudential political considera- 
tions. Her latter years were spent in the practice of an 
austere piety. When she died she bequeathed all her 
possessions to the church ; but endless disputes and con- 
tests for many years rendered the bequest little more than 
nominal. 

In the immediate vicinity of the same bridge, on the 
mainland, are the ruins of the Theatre of Marcellus. It 
was begun by Julius Caesar and completed by Augustus, 
who dedicated it to his nephew Marcellus, the son of his 
sister Octavia, the beloved youth who was to have been 
his successor to the empire, had not a premature death 
carried him away at the unripe age of eighteen, to the 
deep sorrow of all Rome. It was on the occasion of its 
dedication that Pliny tells us a tame tiger was exhibited 
on the stage ; the first ever seen at Rome. Seven hundred 
wild beasts were at that time slaughtered within it for the 
gratification of the people. It was used as a fortress in 
the Middle Ages. The palace of the Orsini now occupies 
a part of the ground upon which it stood. Out of the 
forty-one arches on each of the three stories in which it 
was built, only twelve remain over the two larger ones, 
worn and broken, and partly buried in the ground. The 
bottom story is formed into shops, whose dingy accessories 
are quite in keeping with the blackened ruin. It is in one 
of Rome's most characteristic quarters, and the artist or 
stranger who would see a little genuine Roman life of the 
lower order, cannot do better than go there in the evening, 
when the noisy groups give themselves to chaffering or 
gossiping. It may be worth his while also to enter one of the 
dirty little wine-shops in the neighbourhood, where perhaps 
he will see the ancient — it might be called the classic — 
game of morra played across the benches ; which is done 
by the two who are engaged in it suddenly throwing out 
the fingers of one hand, both calling out a number loudly 
at the same instant, the one who guesses the aggregate 
number of fingers thrown out winning the turn. Some- 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



65 



times these games end in 1 disastrous quarrels, when knives 
are drawn and bloodshed ensues. In the shops, whose 
dim recesses seem made on purpose for the pencil of a 
Rembrandt, a little lamp may be seen burning before a 
picture or image of the Virgin whose lineaments are scarcely 
discernible through the surrounding gloom. 

Just past the island, on the right bank of the river, is the 
Ghetto, or Jews' quarter. The forefathers of this colony 
were first brought to Rome as slaves by Pompey, fifty 
years before the birth of Christ. At first their fate was a 
hard one : they suffered nothing but persecution and in- 
dignities, until Julius Caesar somewhat relieved their posi- 
tion, purchasing thereby their tears and prayers at his 
death. Augustus gave them still more liberty, assigning 
them a quarter in Trastevere. All their sorrows were re- 
newed during the reign of Tiberius, and they continued to 
suffer the worst persecution from Nero to Vespasian. They 
were sometimes thrown into the arena to be devoured by 
wild beasts, as a spectacle, without any fault or crime. 
Domitian drove them out of the city altogether, so that 
they were compelled to roam the country, miserably poor, 
many of them resorting to disreputable modes of gaining a 
livelihood. In the twelfth century they would appear to 
have regained a little more freedom : but in the year 
fifteen hundred and fifty-six they not only lost all their 
privileges but were confined within the limits of the present 
Ghetto by the harsh and intolerant Caraffa of Naples, Paul 
the Fourth, who established the censorship and inquisition 
in Rome. He compelled every Jew to wear a badge ; the 
men yellow hats, and the women yellow veils. The Jews 
remained in the more or less severe confinement of these 
limits for two centuries, subjected to all sorts of arbitrary 
restrictions and oppressions. Their permitted occupations 
were narrowly defined ; thus driving them to many dis- 
honourable shifts and practices merely to support themselves. 
They were compelled to listen to a sermon preached 
against their religion every Sunday. Under Gregory the 

F 



66 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



Sixth they were bound to decorate the Triumphal Arch of 
Titus, that commemorated their own defeat and fall, also 
the road leading to the Coliseum. Under Paul the Second, 
in the latter half of the fifteenth century, they had to run 
races at the time of carnival, almost naked, and with ropes 
about their necks, amidst the jeers and howls of the populace. 
They were obliged to be within their quarter at a certain 
time of night, or they were locked out. It was only at the 
accession of Pius the Ninth, in eighteen hundred and forty- 
six, that the walls of the Ghetto were levelled with the 
ground and a larger degree of liberty allowed to them. 

The place is still full of character ; the tall houses are all 
crowded together; the principal street is so narrow as 
almost to exclude the light of day ; women sit sewing at 
the doors of the dark recesses which serve for shops ; the 
men offer their wares for sale, chiefly consisting of cloths, 
stuffs, and cast-off clothing, children run about or group 
themselves at the thresholds ; the whole place is of the 
dirtiest and most unsavoury possible, and yet, strange to 
say, not unhealthy : fevers, cholera, and other endemic 
diseases, it is said, are less prolific there than in other 
places. Behind all this dinginess there is wealth too : costly 
stuffs lie treasured within those grimy walls, embroideries 
and tapestries of high value are buried there, and, doubtless, 
many a long purse of gold. The colony numbers about 
four thousand persons. 

The Ponte Sisto is a comparatively modern bridge. It was 
built in the latter part of the fifteenth century on the ruins 
of the ancient Pons Janiculensis constructed by Caracalla 
in order to pass to his garden on the transtiberine side of 
the river. The views from this bridge are very quaint and 
characteristic. Tall houses rise straight from the water, 
soiled with mud as if they had grown out of it, with jutting 
loggias and irregular balconies, still further varied with an 
informality of window and a picturesqueness of accessory 
delightful to the eye of the artist. In garden terraces 
built on broken archways of brick crumbling namelessly 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



67 



under the corroding effects of the river, bushy orange trees 
reveal their golden fruit glowing amongst dark green 
leaves, and trellised vines with long tendrils distribute their 
grateful shade. Farther still, and high above the houses, 
the vast dome of St. Peter rises, with its expansive curves 
all softened and harmonised, thrusting its tall cross into the 
very skies, and farthest of all, the dim blue ridge of the 
Janiculan range fringed with a few cypresses and the grace- 
ful ornament of the full-foliaged stone-pine. 

A little higher up from this bridge is the Palazzo Farnese 
on the one hand, and the Villa and Palace of the Farnesina 
on the other. The first of these, begun by Vignola and 
finished by Michael Angelo, is considered one of the finest 
pieces of architecture in its style extant. The Farnesina 
is chiefly noticeable for its frescoes by Raphael. They 
were painted for a rich merchant of Siena, named Agostino 
Chigi, a great promoter of the arts, who built the palace 
and resided there. It is said that whilst working upon 
these frescoes Raphael fell in love with the daughter of 
a neighbouring baker, which caused him so to neglect his 
work that his patron requested that she might be brought 
to the palace, that the painter might talk to his innamorata 
and proceed with his occupation at the same time. If the 
portrait called the Fornarina which he has left to us be 
a faithful likeness of that lady, her beauty was certainly not 
striking ; perhaps the want of it was compensated by vivacity 
of manner and exuberance of wit. This same Chigi was a 
man of some note also. The first books in the Greek 
language, printed in Rome — Pindar in the year fifteen 
hundred and fifteen, and Theocritus in the following one 
—were printed for him and in his own house : the edition 
of the latter, I believe, still keeps a name for its accurate 
reading. In this palace he once entertained Leo the Tenth 
and his whole court with great sumptuousness and magni- 
ficence at one of the most costly feasts given in modern 
times ; after which, the dishes and plates, all of silver, upon 
which it was served were thrown into the Tiber ; Agostino, 

F 2 



68 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



however, like a prudent man as he was, taking care that 
they should be fished up again afterwards. 

The low-spired church here seen, on the Janiculan heights, 
is that of San Pietro in Montorio, and not very distant from 
it the convent of St. Onofrio, interesting for its association 
with the last days of the poet Tasso. He had come to 
Rome for the honour of a public coronation at the Capitol, 
such as Petrarch had received. The excitement was too 
much for his delicate frame enfeebled by so many vicis- 
situdes. He was taken to the convent to die. " I have 
been brought," he says in his last letter to Antonio Cos- 
tantini, "to this monastery of Saint Onofrio, not only 
because the air is recommended by the doctors above that 
of every other part of Rome, but to commence my conver- 
sation in heaven, so to speak, from this elevated spot, and 
with the intercourse of these devout fathers." He died, 
after a brief illness, on the twenty- fifth of April in fifteen 
hundred and ninety-five. 

Advancing still upwards, the conspicuous church with its 
elevated dome on the right is that of San Giovanni in 
Fiorentini, a modern structure not otherwise noticeable ; 
opposite to which is the Lunatic Asylum. A little farther 
the river makes a sudden bend in an easterly direction. 

Here an extensive building stretches itself along the left 
bank, the Hospital of Santo Spirito. This was the first 
foundling hospital established in Europe. It was founded 
by the excellent and Christian -minded Pope Innocent the 
Third about the beginning of the thirteenth century, who 
was so shocked at hearing of the numbers of small children 
drawn up by the fishing nets from the river, that he 
devised this as a remedy. It has been rebuilt and en- 
larged at successive periods. The system of the clan- 
destine deposit of children has since grown European ; 
though, I believe, it has never prevailed in England. In 
a by-street on the other side of the building, there is a 
grated projection sufficiently large to receive a young child, 
in the inside of which is a cushioned cradle, in which the 



Chap.. IV. 



ROME. 



69 



infant is placed, when a turn is given to the apparatus, 
and the child is immediately separated from the ties of 
every earthly relationship. Denied the maternal care, it 
is no wonder that more than one-half of these unfortunate 
creatures should perish in infancy. How many a mother 
has stood trembling beside that dark grating with a heart 
full of tears and bitterness, straining to behold to the last 
moment the face of her helpless offspring, to resign which 
appears like resigning her very self, her own soul ; and 
once the fatal separation made, has turned from it with a 
pang more painful than that of death itself! Not always, 
however, are these innocent victims of circumstance quite 
lost to their parents. Some token or other is sometimes 
preserved, recognition afterwards taking place ; but such 
re-meetings must be rare and difficult. Generally, the 
grave can be no more silent than the walls of this ill- 
starred abode. Not infrequently married persons — even 
of those having families of their own — adopt one or more 
children from this institution. The building is not, however, 
entirely occupied by foundlings ; its large extent embraces 
accommodation for numerous sick patients ; and doubtless, 
many have reason to be grateful for the friendly shelter 
of the Tiber-washed walls of the Hospital of Santo Spirito. 

Precisely at this curve of the river, and where it is the 
nearest to St. Peter's, at low water may be seen the 
remains of the ancient Pons Triumphalis. It was across 
this bridge that the barbarous but splendid spectacle of 
the Roman Triumph used to pass. This, as every one 
knows, was the public festival held after a great victory, 
only accorded on high and stringent conditions, when the 
whole conquering army together with the spoils of the 
vanquished and their principal personages, accompanied 
with all the pomp of military and civic circumstance, were 
passed in review before the people. 

Let us rebuild the bridge in imagination and stand upon 
it, spectators of one of these wonderful pageants, to realise 
which nothing is wanting in the records of history. 



7 o 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



Long before the break of day the whole city is up. 
Everywhere scaffolds and galleries are erected from which 
to behold the coming spectacle, to bear the least service in 
which has been a source of canvassing and rivalship for 
many a day. All the people are dressed in white : nobody 
so poor that he cannot find a garment for this occasion. 
Gorgeous temples reveal their dim interiors smoking with 
incense and garlanded with flowers. Bustling officers clear 
the centre of the streets, pushing back the eager crowds. 
All night, and long before, the army encamped outside of 
the city has been making preparation for its triumphal 
entry into it. It is that of the consul Paulus iEmilius, 
returned from the conquest of Macedonia : a man of noble 
and fine traits, though not altogether free from the barbarities 
incident to his time. Now every avenue is crowded : white 
garments nutter everywhere. Friends look for friends 
wherewith to congratulate. Eagerness and expectation 
show themselves in every face. Hark ! they come. The 
restlessness of the multitude subsides. Nearer and nearer 
the music sounds. Now they pass the bridge upon which 
we stand, in order to enter the city. The procession is 
headed by the magistrates and the whole body of the 
senate arrayed in their robes of office. Then appear the 
statues, pictures and colossal images taken from the van- 
quished, piled up on two hundred and fifty chariots, ac- 
companied by persons bearing boards on which are written 
in large letters the names of the conquered cities, together 
with plans and drawings of them, also models in w r ood 
and ivory. Then innumerable waggons laden with the 
finest and richest armour of the Macedonians, both brass 
and steel, all cleaned and polished for the occasion, dis- 
posed in the most artistic manner as if tumbled in heaps 
by chance, yet loosely bound together so as to clash in 
the movement, thus producing a kind of reminiscence of 
their deadly purpose in warfare. From amongst shields, 
greaves, habergeons, quivers and helmets, sword-points 
bristle, flashing in the sun. Then follow three thousand 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



7i 



men, bearing four hundred and fifty vessels filled with 
silver coins, four to each vessel ; others carry cups, bowls 
and goblets of gorgeous workmanship, set out to the best 
advantage. After these come the trumpeters, not with 
notes of peace, but blaring out a fierce war-peal — the 
charge for onset — till every soldier's blood bounds and 
tingles in his veins, as he clutches his sword the tighter, 
and sets his feet more firmly to the ground. Then come 
troops of young men robed in ornamentally-bordered 
garments, leading to the sacrifice a hundred and twenty 
oxen with gilded horns and heads adorned with ribbons 
and garlands, no suspicion in their mild eyes of the fate 
that awaits them. Along with these are boys carrying 
basins of silver and gold for libation. Then follows the 
gold coin borne in seventy-seven vessels, each of three 
talents. Then the consecrated bowl of ten talents, made 
of gold and set with precious stones, which ^Emilius had 
vowed to the god of the Capitol ; followed by the whole 
service of gold plate from the royal table of Perseus, the 
Macedonian king. Then the chariot of Perseus, in which 
his armour is placed together with his diadem — symbol of 
kingly rule now no more. Presently come the children of 
the fallen monarch, together with their servants, teachers 
and other attendants weeping and stretching forth their 
hands, imploring mercy and pity for their charge. And 
now a very saddening episode occurs. Amongst these 
children are two little boys and a girl, brought up in all 
the wealth and luxury of royalty, henceforward to be the 
slaves of a ruthless conqueror. So young are they that 
they do not even perceive their unfortunate position, but 
with childish prattle look about them in wonder at the 
magnificent pageant by which they are surrounded. Their 
very insensibility makes their situation the more touching, 
compelling even the sturdy Romans to confess theii 
humanity in compassionate floods of tears as they pass. 
Perseus himself follows, dressed in black, looking like one 
absolutely stunned and deprived of reason in the severity 



72 



of his misfortune, surrounded by his servants and depen- 
dents, who appear to regard his grief, forgetful of their 
own. No wonder he should look sad. To be conquered 
by a foreign enemy meant the loss of everything then ; not 
only rule and state, not only liberty and, perhaps, life — for 
the loss of these things to a brave man might have been 
borne — but there was also the knowledge that the wife, 
family and friends of the conquered were all involved with 
him in common ruin, and perhaps reserved to fates worse 
than his own — this it was that stabbed bravery to the 
heart and made courage itself tremble. Not even could he 
say, my children will call me father when I die, and keep 
my name alive amongst men. His whole household shared 
his condition. Pity for others knew no drop of mercy for 
him. The inexorable cancelled his name from the book of 
the living, not even allowing him a recording tombstone 
when he died. To be conquered was to be annihilated, 
converting the page of existence into an empty and dreary 
blank. No wonder that Perseus should look distracted 
and disconsolate. In these Triumphs nothing of humilia- 
tion was spared to the conquered. By the current brutality 
of the time, not only did they submit to the indignity 
belonging to the position of a vanquished people, but 
hired wretches walked beside them, ridiculing them and 
taunting them with their downfall, heaping shameful re- 
proaches and scornful jests on their already too hard 
fortunes. But the procession does not wait. Soon all 
traces of sadness are lost in the moving pageant. Four 
hundred crowns are borne by, the tribute of the several 
vanquished cities, given in token of fealty to their con- 
querors. Last of all ^Emilius himself appears : a man 
well worthy to be looked upon, as the historians confess, 
even without these insignia of state about him. He rides 
in a chariot magnificently decorated, dressed in a purple 
robe shot with gold, bearing a laurel branch in his right 
hand, followed by his two sons, Quintus Maximus and 
Publius Scipio — sons by birth, though now calling another 



Chap. IV. 



ROME. 



by the name of father, for these are given away in 
adoption. They are accompanied by other illustrious per- 
sonages. Then comes the whole army ; first the cavalry, 
troop by troop, then the cohorts, each in its order, the 
soldiers carrying boughs of laurel and singing verses in 
praise of their commander and his deeds, or in ridicule of 
their fallen foes. 

It is a proud position, that which ^Emilius occupies at this 
moment ; honoured by the whole city, and that city the great- 
est on the earth's surface. Right royally he bears himself 
amidst the radiance and splendour around ; the object and 
attraction to the eyes of gazing thousands : so that it might 
naturally be supposed, that if ever a man had reached the 
top of human ambition, and found the full happiness of 
glory, honour, praise, popularity and reverence, it was 
Paulus ^Emilius that day. Let us see if it was really so 
— if all was satisfied desire, calmness and contentment 
beneath the purple robe and laurel crown. 

yEmilius was a tender-hearted man, as tenderness went in 
those days : he loved his own, no doubt, very dearly. He 
had two sons still left to him, sole heirs of his name and 
fortune — two others, the fruits of a first marriage, he had 
given in adoption, as has been said. The youngest was 
twelve years of age — that period of promise when the 
character first begins to dawn on the soul — the true infancy 
of manhood, the spring of the human year. Many a time 
had he been brought outside the gates of the city to witness 
the bustling preparations for the coming triumph, till his 
young heart beat high with joy. Long days before, the 
proud father had anticipated the pleasure of making the 
boy a sharer of his honours. He would sit by his side in 
the chariot ; how his eyes would sparkle with delight in the 
splendour of the occasion — an occasion which he would 
remember to the last day of his existence, proud to be able 
to say, ^Emilius was my father ! But fate had decreed it 
otherwise. Five days before the crowning consummation of 
the general's glory, his darling boy sickened and died. 



74 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 



Think if it were all happiness beneath that silk and gold ; 
if no pang of sorrow shot through the father's heart, be- 
dimming the brilliancy of the pompous spectacle and turning 
its gorgeous panoplies into the wearisome tediousness of a 
miserable and empty piece of vanity. Three days after- 
wards his remaining son will likewise be snatched from him 
by inexorable death, and the bereaved father be left child- 
less. 

Three long days has it taken for this procession to pass 
under review. Now it is over. It will find a sickening 
termination. It will go to the Forum, to the foot of the 
Capitol, where many will be cruelly put to death — 
where a black prison yawns, dark and loathsome, filled 
with horror and the shudderings of despair, whose tomb- 
like vaults to this day seem to renew- echoes of the anguish 
they have known, in which will be plunged the kingly 
Perseus,, shorn of every beam of royalty, to suffer and 
pine till unusual clemency shall afford him from all the 
world a little less repulsive corner, where, overcome by his 
misfortunes, he may sicken and starve, perishing miserably. 
Of his children let us not inquire further. Enough 
to have lingered for a moment on the black spot that gave 
a deadlier hue to the crimson stains which render infamous 
the barbaric splendours of a Roman Triumph. 

Many such proud processions has the ancient river here 
witnessed, as those old arches on the Via Sacra testify 
with their broken sculptures and half-obliterated inscriptions, 
so lordly in their glory, so extravagant in their ostentation, 
that in order that the head of an emperor even might not 
be turned by them, it was found necessary to place behind 
him a slave to whisper in his ear, amidst the wild shouts of 
Io triumphe ! which tore the skies, Caesar, remember that 
thou art but a man ! 



Chap. V. 



( 75 ) 



CHAPTER V. 



ROME. FROM THE BRIDGE OF ST. ANGELO 
TO THE PORTA DEL POPOLO. 

HE traveller following the upward course of the Tiber 



X finds no more characteristic and impressive prospect 
than that which meets 'his gaze when he has left the bridge 
and castle of St. Angelo behind him, and, looking back- 
wards, he sees the dome of St. Peter's and the tomb of 
Hadrian stand within the limits of the same vision, the 
grandest of ancient and modern monuments, side by side ; 
the one a memento of the hope of immortality in the con- 
servation of the bodily frame, the other of the faith in it 
through the culture and development of the spiritual and 
insubstantial part of our being. Neither from the picturesque 
point of view could anything be finer ; particularly if seen 
under the glow of the downward-sloping sun of a rich and 
mellow afternoon. Then the animated stone figures which 
stand upon the bridge seem to wave their garments and 
nutter their wings in the bickering light, and high up on the 
summit of the lofty tower, the bronze angel, touched with 
the ethereal gleam, seems to tremble too, as if longing to take 
his flight into the liquid glory by which he is surrounded, 
and bid farewell to the earth for ever. Then, beyond the 
bridge and the impassioned figures that guard its parapets, 
the dome of St. Peter's rises, majestic, vast, dim and broad 
in its proportions ; more like some huge growth of earth 
and sky than a fabric raised stone by stone through the 
laborious efforts of human skill and industry. 




7 6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



The bridge was built by the emperor Hadrian about the 
year one hundred and thirty-six, for the purpose of passing 
to his tomb which lay just on the other side of it. It was 
called ^Elius from one of the names borne by that emperor. 
In the Middle Ages it shared the history of the mausoleum 
and was the scene of many a fearful struggle and terrible 
tragedy. In the lawless time of the eleventh century 
Cencio, the son of the prefect, erected a high tower near it, 
from which he exacted toll or black-mail on the passers, 




CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO. 

and once imprisoned the pope himself (Hildebrand) within 
it, who was, however, rescued by a popular rising. In the 
jubilee year fourteen hundred and fifty some portion of 
the bridge gave way under the pressure of a crowd of 
persons returning from the papal benediction, when almost 
two hundred were killed. Two chapels were afterwards 
built on the right bank for the benefit of the souls of those 
who had perished ; but these being made use of by the 
army led by Bourbon at the time of the siege of the castle, 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



77 



they were demolished and the statues of St. Peter and St. Paul 
placed there instead. Afterwards, the parapet was built and 
statues of angels bearing the instruments of the passion 
placed upon it. The angel of the cross is by Bernini, the 
others by his pupils. Much as it is the fashion to speak 
slightingly of these, one must allow that whatever be their 
demerits as works of art their position and general 
picturesqueness would make their removal a matter of 
regret to every one who has once seen their agitated forms 
against the sturdy and immovable walls of the old mauso- 
leum, or giving value to the quiet and exquisite curves of 
the dome of St. Peter's. 

On the left bank, and close to the river, the mausoleum of 
Hadrian or Castle of St. Angelo stands, apostrophised by 
Lord Byron : 

Turn to the mole which Hadrian reared on high, 

Imperial mimic of old Egypt's piles, 

Colossal copyist of deformity, 

Whose travell'd phantasy from the far Nile's 

Enormous model, doom'd the artist's toils 

To build for giants, and for his vain earth, 

His shrunken ashes, raise this dome: How smiles 

The gazer's eye with philosophic mirth, 

To view the huge design which sprung from such a birth ! 

To give the whole history of this majestic monument of 
Rome's bygone splendour, would be to give the history of 
Rome itself since it was built. A sketch of the vicissitudes 
it has passed through, together with a more detailed 
narrative of some of its most important and picturesque 
phases, must serve our purpose here. 

The mausoleum of Augustus in the Campus Martius 
being fully occupied when the ashes of Nerva had been 
deposited therein, Hadrian laid the foundations of a still 
vaster and grander place of imperial sepulture on the oppo- 
site side of the river and lower down, intended, perhaps, to 
outvie the former in magnificence and grandeur. And what 
foundations ! Whoever will go carefully over the explora- 
tions figured in Pironesi's ' Antiquita Romane,' will gain a 



78 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V- 



new idea of the marvellous workmanship accomplished by 
those wonderful Romans of old. Down below the sunless 
bed of the Tiber these stupendous substructures lie, stone 
biting into stone, arch reversed upon arch, wall set upon 
wall ; not as men build, but as Nature builds when she 
raises her fastnesses for the eagle. No wonder that it 
should stand : it would be a wonder, rather, if it should 
ever fall whilst Time itself lasts. Though Hadrian began 
it, he did not complete it. It was finished by Antoninus 
Pius, in the Christian year one hundred and forty. In the 
elaborately drawn restoration of Canina, based upon all 
known authorities as to its former condition, it may be 
recalled more or less clearly to the mind's eye. The 
entrance was without a portico, on the ground floor, above 
which was raised a tier of tablets going round the whole 
building, probably having upon them inscriptions to the 
dead. At the four angles of the square basement were 
placed equestrian statues. Above this rose another story 
with fluted Ionic columns supporting a handsome frieze or 
pediment, with statues placed between each column, and 
upon this another in the same manner, excepting that the 
columns were of the Corinthian order. The several stories 
diminished gradually in area as they went higher ; the 
whole being surmounted with a conical roof crowned with 
the large pine-cone of bronze, now in the gardens of the 
Vatican. It was entirely covered with Parian marble, its 
sculptures being of the same material. From its enormous 
size it must have been one of the most striking and im- 
posing monuments ever raised by human hands. It is nine 
hundred feet in circumference, and the external wall is 
about fifty feet in thickness. Immediately within this 
w T all was an inclined plane (a part of which still remains), 
along which a carriage might have driven to the summit. 
A square chamber occupied the centre of the building, in 
which the sarcophagi stood, the cinerary urns being placed 
at the sides. 

This tomb was not the only monument that the hide- 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



79 



fatigable emperor, whose name it bears, left behind him. 
He made a tour through a great part of the Roman empire, 
embracing Europe, Asia, and Africa. He reached Great 
Britain, where he caused the wall to be built, dividing the 
northern from the southern portion, fragments of which 
still remain. At the foot of the hills near Tivoli he raised 
a palace of vast extent, which was supposed to be the 
epitome of all he had seen in his travels. Its extensive 
ruins still speak its former grandeur. Many fine works of 
art were found there. He himself was the second to be 
placed within the tomb he had reared ; an adopted son who 
died before him being the first. Hadrian died at Baias, 
whither he had gone for his health, his remains being 
brought to the mausoleum by his successor, Antoninus 
Pius. 

The next laid in it was Antoninus Pius himself, who left 
a good name behind him. He was the adopted son of 
Hadrian. His reign of twenty years constituted one of 
those bright epochs which have the happiness to be almost 
silent in history. His whole study was for the welfare 
of his country. War, violence, and crime had nothing to 
record during his wise and judicious rule. He framed 
laws, made sanitary regulations, built hospitals, repaired 
to the best of his power the losses and miseries suffered 
from earthquakes and other natural causes. Yet with all 
this he loved the country and countiy pleasures, as the most 
elevated and energetic minds almost always do. He had a 
full voice, a commanding presence, and an impressive per- 
sonality ; like a sterling coin with a good image stamped 
upon it, not to give it value, but to confirm it valuable. 

The next who found a dwelling in this lordly* sepulchre 
•was a hero indeed. It was Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, 
nephew and foster-son of Antoninus Pius, whose name 
must be a star of light to every student of practical morals. 
He was born in Rome in the year one hundred and 
twenty-one, and adopted by his uncle, before he was made 
emperor, on the death of his father, which happened when 



8o 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



he was quite a young boy. Even then he was a very 
earnest student, and practised himself in the austerities of 
the stoic sect of philosophers. Early elected to the most 
weighty offices of state, he justified the public trust, fulfill- 
ing in the most unimpeachable manner every function 
deputed to him. When Antoninus Pius died, he divided 
the empire with his foster-brother, Lucius Verus, although 
he had reached the ripe age of forty, and might very well 
have retained the power in his own hands. He maintained 
an unbroken friendship with Lucius, overlooking that the 
latter was opposed to him in almost all the finer elements 
of character, giving himself up to the unworthy pleasures 
of degraded sensuous enjoyment. In the meantime, Au- 
relius ruled as a good man ought to rule, acting as one who 
lived in the service of the state, and not upon it. Dion 
Cassius tells us that he applied himself to the most minute 
offices, never saying, doing, or writing anything negligently ; 
giving even slight affairs the fullest attention, from an 
opinion that an emperor ought to do nothing hastily. He 
avoided the precedent of failing in little things, lest it should 
extend to greater. He would frequently remain the whole 
day through in the senate. Not the least of the blessings 
of a good man's rule is that the preference of councillors 
and officers must be given to good men also. Aurelius 
selected old and tried hands to second his high intentions, 
and found them ready to assist him in ruling well. But this 
great man's life was not altogether spent under the royal 
purple and surrounded by imperial splendour at home. For 
five arduous years he campaigned in central Europe through 
all the vicissitudes of a severe climate, leaving kingly 
halls for inclement skies, and every amenity of life for the 
hard course of military discipline ; and this with a suscep- 
tible constitution, and much bodily weakness. His fearless- 
ness and forbearance were exemplified in the fact of a 
conspiracy against him being discovered, which was crushed 
by his generosity and coolness without a single punishment ; 
and when the letters and papers were brought to him 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



8r 



discovering the plot, he had them burnt without looking at 
them. He died towards the end of the second century near 
Vienna, or at Sirmione, near Verona, his ashes being borne 
to repose in his native city. They have perished ; but the 
memory of a great good man does not perish so easily. 
Marcus Aurelius read a great lesson to mankind which 
will live whilst men live. Life for him was a field of duty, 
in which the only ills were vice, ignorance, and error of 
judgment and opinion — the ignoring, in fact, of the highest 
laws of our nature and being : the sole good being virtue, 
purity of life, temperance and justice in energy and in 
action. He never forgot these. His whole life was a 
sermon preached from that most potent and influential of 
all pulpits, act and practice. He was no self-apologist ; his 
life needed no explanation. Fortunately, however, for us, 
we are not left altogether to infer the principles by which 
he was governed. From time to time he noted down the 
rules and laws by which he was, or desired to be, actuated. 
Translated into all languages, they have been a handbook 
ever since to every one to whom the main object in life is 
practically to live up to its highest principles ; and, in this 
respect, form an admirable appendix to Christian doctrine, 
with which, indeed, they in a great measure identify them- 
selves. It is true the Christians suffered persecution during 
his reign ; but it is almost certain from what is known of 
the man, that it could not have been by his command. It 
has been very reasonably urged that Christianity at that 
period may have been misrepresented as a political faction. 
At least, it was a more or less secret society, and all secret 
societies at that time were forbidden. Again, even at so 
early an epoch, it is possible that there may not have been 
wanting individuals, enthusiasts who wished to establish 
it on a temporal basis and dominion, which would naturally 
cause it to fall under the punishment of the Roman laws 
and jurisdiction. Internal evidence at least acquits Marcus 
Aurelius of having been a willing party to anything like 
cruelty or oppression. 

G 



82 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



A bronze statue of him seated in majestic action on 
horseback, to this day stands on the top of Rome's proudest 
eminence, the Capitoline Hill, and worthily occupies the 
exalted position. An epitome of all that is noble in Roman 
character, he shows us how much may be done in one life- 
time, and what a grand thing a lifetime may be made. 
Lord of a large proportion of the material world, he found 
his vastest empire within, holding a mightier rule than that 
of kingdoms, and crowned with a loftier monarchy. No 
wonder he should have been loved by the people he left 
behind him. So great, indeed, was their affection for his 
memory, that there was scarcely a house of note in which 
his marble bust or figure was not found. Thus it is that 
even now in Rome there is hardly a gallery, public or 
private, wherein his dignified and gracious form does not 
stand before us, and his mild but earnest countenance look 
on us in marble clearly yet through the vicissitudes of 
almost two thousand years. 

As if this tomftmust be a microcosm and contain samples 
of all the good and bad in the world, its next occupant was 
in the utmost contrast to those already laid in it. It was 
Commodus, the wicked son of an excellent father. How 
such a monster, indeed, could have proceeded from so noble 
a parent is one of those problems of time and humanity 
which it is impossible to solve. It seemed as if he justified 
the proverb of the old song : " Full young doth it prick 
that will be a thorn," for he appeared to take to vice as 
naturally as his father Aurelius was born to virtue. He was 
full of meanness, cruelty, and vanity. He danced and sang 
in public, and acted as a buffoon. He assumed the character 
of Hercules, and went about clothed in a lion's skin, and 
bearing a club. He fought at gladiatorial games, but 
took care to be encased in stout armour, and to carry a 
heavy sword, whilst his adversaries were naked, armed with 
weapons of tin or lead. One knows not whether most to 
abhor the enormities of which he was guilty, or to despise 
the pusillanimity of the Roman senate and people who 



Chap. V, 



ROME. 



83 



submitted to him, and even nattered his excesses. He 
killed many thousands of wild animals, but always from 
behind a screen. He never went out without his sword, 
nor without using it. One day he had determined to put to 
death some persons about to be made consuls. A little 
child finding the fatal tablet on which their names were 
written, carried it to Marcia, his wife. Poison was ad- 
ministered to the tyrant, but being slow in its effects, he 
was despatched by an athlete, sent in for that purpose, who 
strangled him. The senate, whilst congratulating Pertinax 
his successor, poured curses on the corpse of Commodus, 
and wanted to drag him through the streets, and throw him 
into the river ; but this Pertinax would not permit. He 
too was borne to the place of emperors, and laid, an 
unworthy occupant, within their tomb. 

After him came Septimius Severus, who died at York, in 
the year two hundred and eleven, whose ashes were also 
brought hither ; and, last of all, Caracalla, his son, sometimes 
called Tarantus, after a certain gladiator, who, as Dion 
Cassius tells us, "was very little, very ill-made, and very 
much a villain." He repeated the worst follies and cruelties of 
Commodus. At an early age he slew Geta, his brother, who 
had flown to his mother's arms, with whom he should have 
divided the empire, and many thousands of persons after- 
wards supposed to be favourable to him. He then gave him- 
self up to bestiality and pleasure, quite neglecting the affairs 
of the empire. No wonder he should have been haunted by 
spectres through the gorgeous halls of the Palatine — his 
father and his brother Geta, with swords pointed to his 
bosom at night. No wonder that he should have turned to 
incantations and strange rites to find a little rest, and been 
disappointed. The spirits he summoned were avenging 
ones — his own ; no gods answered his unregarded prayers. 
Torn by remorse, he passed from one distraction to another, 
until his miserable life was terminated at the age of thirty 
by the hand of the assassin after a reign of seven years. 

He was the last emperor laid in the Mausoleum. From 

G 2 



8 4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



the death of Severus, in the year two hundred and 
eleven, it remained closed for two hundred years, until the 
beginning of the fifth century, when it was used as a fortress 
against the Goths under Alaric. He, however, burst into 
the tomb, desecrating its places of sepulture and carrying 
off all the treasured urns and sarcophagi that he found 
within it. In the year five hundred and thirty-seven it was 
again attacked by the Goths under Vitiges, and vigorously 
defended by the brave Roman general Belisarius, who, 
when the castle — for henceforth, no longer a tomb, it 
became a fortress — was on the point of being taken, saved 
it by casting down upon the enemy the marble statues 
with which it was decorated. A little later an event oc- 
curred from which it obtained a new name and significance. 

About the middle of the sixth century there was born in 
Rome one of the great lights of the church and noblest 
ornaments to Christianity, Gregory, the first pope of that 
name, justly designated the Great. He was of an illus- 
trious family : his father being a senator and his mother 
coming of an historic race. He applied himself vigorously 
to study in his youth. At the age of thirty he was made 
praetor, or chief magistrate and governor of Rome. On the 
death of his father he founded, a monastery in his own house 
on the Ccelian Hill, and afterwards six others in Sicily. 
When his year of prsetorship had terminated he took the 
monastic habit, spending his time in study, fasting, and 
religious observances. One day in passing through the 
market he saw some British youths exposed for sale, and 
on inquiring who they were, was told they were called 
Angli or Angles. " Call them not Angles but angels," he 
said, " for surely their faces fit them for such a dignity and 
companionship," adding that it was lamentable that, having 
outsides so fair, there should not be God's grace within. 
Having petitioned the pope to send missions to their 
country, and finding no one willing to undertake the task, 
he started himself privately. No sooner was this known 
to the people than the whole city was in an uproar ; and, 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



85 



running to the pope one day as he entered St. Peters, they 
earnestly besought him to order his return, saying that by 
his going St. Peter was offended and Rome ruined. He 
was overtaken, and with much reluctance induced to 
abandon his intended journey. He subsequently, however, 
sent St. Augustine and others to fulfil an office which it 
was denied to him to perform. It was during a residence 
of three years in Constantinople, whither he had gone upon 
a diplomatic errand, that he wrote his voluminous and 
important work upon the Book of Job. When he was 
made the secretary of Pope Pelagius the Second, he still 
remained in his monastery, but on the death of that pontiff, 
in the year five hundred and ninety, he was unanimously 
elected to the papacy. He did all he could to avoid a 
dignity courted by so many, and actually wrote to several 
emperors entreating them to annul the election. At last, 
escaping through the well-watched gates of the city in a 
basket, he went and hid himself in a cave in the middle of 
a wood ; but being discovered, he was promoted to the see 
and consecrated. It was no affectation of modesty that 
caused him to act thus. In writing to Theoctista, the 
emperor's sister, he says, " I have lost the comfort of my 
calm, and appearing to be outwardly exalted, I am inwardly 
and really fallen ;" in a letter to the patrician Narses, " All 
that the world thinks agreeable brings to me trouble and 
affliction ;" also to St. Leander, whose acquaintance he had 
made in Constantinople," " I remember with tears that I 
have lost the calm harbour of my repose, and with many a 
sigh I look upon the firm land I cannot reach. If you love 
me assist me with your prayers." 

The time at which Gregory ascended the throne was one 
of sore trial and distress at Rome. A tremendous inunda- 
tion of the Tiber had occurred. The air was poisoned by 
vast numbers of serpents left by the receded waters. A 
terrible plague had broken out ; of which, indeed, his 
predecessor had died. Dismay and terror reigned on every 
hand. Of course, at that time, when the laws of nature 



86 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



were so little understood, the affliction was at once attri- 
buted to the retributive visitation of God, pretty much as 
it would have been a few centuries previously. The Deity- 
was angry and must be propitiated. Accordingly, Gregory 
organised a vast procession with great fasting and humility. 
A picture of the Virgin Mary, said to be by St. Luke, now 
in the church of the Aracceli near the Capitol, was borne 
through the city. The story goes that when they reached 
the ^Eliari bridge — from this event taking the name of 
St. Angelo — -heavenly voices were heard singing in the air, 

Regina coeli laetare, 

Quia quern meruisti portare 

Resurrexit sicut dixit. 

Alleluia ! 

[Rejoice, O Queen of Heaven, for that he whom thou hast been worthy 
to bear, has risen as he had promised. Hallelujah !] 

To which Gregory answered, 

Ora pro nobis Deum. 

Alleluia ! 

[Pray to God for us. Hallelujah.] 

And all the people replied, 

Ora pro nobis Deum. 

Alleluia ! 

Upon this there appeared in the air an angel, hovering over 
the ancient mausoleum, sheathing a bloody sword, and the 
plague was staid : not, however, before eighty persons in 
the procession had been struck down mortally as it passed 
through the streets ; a result more serious than surprising, 
perhaps, under the circumstances. 

The words of the anthem above quoted are still to be 
seen inscribed on the ceiling of the church of the Aracceli, 
near the Capitol, and a record of the event written upon 
parchment is in the archives of the adjoining convent. On 
St. Mark's day it is still celebrated ; when a procession of 
ecclesiastics, together with several religious communities, 
after passing through various parts of the city pause at the 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



87 



bridge, singing the same antiphon, Regina coeli lsetare. It 
was not, however, till long afterwards that the mausoleum 
took the name which it now bears. The bronze figure of 
an angel in the act of sheathing a sword which stands upon 
the summit is only the work of the last century. 

To pursue the story of Gregory a little farther. 

He seems to have concentrated in himself some of the 
highest and finest qualities of manhood, anticipating his age 
in some respects by many a century. Coming to the throne 
at one of the saddest periods of civilized history, when the 
church was distracted with schisms and heresies, and over- 
run with abuses ; when the heart of society was rotten to 
its centre, and vice, selfishness, and injustice .were rife 
everywhere, he stretched forth the hand of love and not of 
terror, and never utterly in vain. When the bishop of 
Terracina had caused the Jews to be robbed of their 
synagogue, he commanded that it should be restored to 
them ; saying, that they were not to be compelled, but 
converted by meekness and charity ; and when a rich Jew 
of Cagliari, converted to Christianity, placed Christian 
symbols in a synagogue, to the offence of others, he reproved 
him, and commanded that they should be withdrawn. 
Tender-hearted as a child, he knew no fear : he was a lion 
in the cause of right ; and yet his boldness was united with 
so much tact and fine judgment that he almost never came 
into collision with absolutely opposing forces. When 
Romanus, the exarch or governor of Italy for the emperor, 
in the year five hundred and ninety-two, broke a solemn 
league entered into with the Lombards, taking Perugia and 
several other towns, so that the Lombards in revenge 
besieged the very walls of Rome, Gregory acted with 
the utmost promptitude, raising an army for the defence, 
yet he so far prevailed upon the enemy by well-timed 
diplomacy as to cause them to retire without further 
damage : after which he severely reproved the exarch for 
his perfidy. He attended personally to the wants of the 
poor, amongst whom there was then much necessity, some 



88 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V 



of them being received and entertained at his own table ; 
proper officers being appointed to relieve others. Once 
when a man was found dead at a street-corner, it was 
presumed through starvation, he denied himself the sacra- 
ment for several days. He did not scruple even to sell 
the too luxurious appointments of the church in order to 
redeem captives taken by the Lombards — his own income 
being wholly spent on others, and not on himself. When 
the Archbishop of Ravenna used the pallium not only at 
mass, but at other functions, Gregory wrote to him telling 
him that no ornament shone so fairly on the shoulders of a 
bishop as humility. In his letters to his vicars and stewards 
abroad, he enjoins mildness and liberality towards vassals 
and farmers ; disapproving anything like oppression, and 
requiring that time should be allowed for the payment of 
debts, and instalments taken. His care and consideration 
extended to the utmost limits of his reach. He counted 
the whole human race to have claims on him. His touch 
vibrated through the hemisphere, and beyond it. He never 
forgot the least in the greatest : he had that rare faculty. 
The cares of kingdoms allowed him to listen to the com- 
plaint of a beggar. The affairs of state not only permitted 
him to remodel the economy of the church to its simplest 
particular, but to write many books, still famous in eccle- 
siastical and religious literature, and pen a vast number of 
letters, still textbooks in matters of church ordinance and 
religious morals. He studied and practised music diligently, 
first naming the notes by letters. One form of ecclesiastical 
music still keeps his name — the Gregorian. When John, 
the Archbishop of Ravenna, reproved him for cowardice in 
seeking to evade the distinction of the papacy, he wrote a 
book on the Pastoral Care, setting forth the danger and 
difficulties together with the duties and obligations of that 
sacred function — more arduous than the acquirement of 
any art or science ; first treating of the disposition requisite 
for so high a calling, then of the duties belonging to it, 
then what kind of service and care the flock demanded of 



Chap, V. 



ROME. 



89 



the pastor, and last of all, the obligations of self-watchful- 
ness and self-examination which must constantly attend 
the pastor himself if he would not be one of those 

Blind mouths, that scarce themselves know how to hold 
A sheephook, or have learned ought else the least 
That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs* 

Another of his famous books he called Dialogues : 
perhaps the least valuable of all his writings. It is full of 
wild stories of supernatural interference, miracles of saints, 
and other extravagancies, which may very fairly be referred 
to the age in which he lived, rather than to the man. 
Besides these, he wrote numerous Latin hymns, still used 
in the services of the Romish church, of which the well- 
known Veni Creator is one. All this was done amidst 
failing health and a thousand distractions. 

After a course so good and noble, this pattern to the 
human race expired in the year six hundred and four, 
about the sixty-fourth of his age. He reigned thirteen 
years six months and ten days — his biographers cannot 
spare one from the enumeration. 

The name of Gregory was subsequently numbered 
amongst the most honoured of the church to which he 
belonged. With the other three saints revered as " Doctors " 
of the Latin church his memory was celebrated by rites 
ordered to be universally observed by Boniface the Eighth 
in twelve hundred and ninety-five. If ever a man de- 
served the name of saint it was he. He finds his last 
resting-place in St. Peter's, and it is the most fitting one ; 
that many may pass his tomb, and none without a memory 
of the great man whom it covers. 

From about the year nine hundred and twenty-three the 
"castle was occupied by a Roman lady named Marozia, 
infamous daughter of an infamous mother. She was 
patrician by birth, of great beauty, obtaining much power 
and wide possessions by the worst means. She first 

* Lycidas. 



9 o 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



married Alberic, Count of Tusculum and Marquis of 
Camerino, who was traitor enough to induce the Hunga- 
rians to invade Italy, which so enraged his countrymen 
that he was driven from his stronghold and died at Orte. 
His widow returned, and again obtained possession of the 
castle, marrying Guido, Marquis of Tuscany, who attempted 
to make himself master of the temporal power of Rome. 
The pope's brother was assassinated in the Lateran Palace, 
at that time the papal residence, and the pope himself, 
John the Tenth, taken to the castle of St. Angelo, where 
he was strangled ; her own son, who was then only 
twenty-five years of age, being elevated to the papacy 
under the title of John the Eleventh, and made a mere 
instrument in the hands of his mother under the control of 
his brother Alberic. He was afterwards deposed and 
imprisoned within the fortress. Shortly after the murder of 
John the Eleventh Guido died, and Marozia took for her 
third husband Hugo, Marquis of Provence, just elected 
King of Italy at Pavia, who was so well received at Rome, 
that he left his army without the gates. A few months 
afterwards, when they were one day dining within the 
castle, Marozia asked her son Alberic to bring the king 
water to wash his hands. He performed the task so 
awkwardly that the water was spilt ; upon which the king 
struck him. Full of indignation, Alberic left the castle, 
and appealing to the people, inveighed against the tyranny 
of the king. His words took effect. An insurrection 
ensued, and the king, without attempting a stroke in his 
defence, was let down from the walls of the castle and 
escaped. Alberic made himself master of the fortress and 
of Rome, maintaining his position during four powerless 
pontificates, for a space of twenty-two years. On his 
accession he condemned his mother to a perpetual im- 
prisonment within the fortress of her power, where she 
died. Her progeny occupied the papacy to three successive 
generations. 

Towards the end of the tenth century a patrician of 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



9* 



Rome, by name Crescentius, placed himself at the head 
of the citizens in order to shake off the temporal rule of the 
papacy, which at that time was largely subservient to 
German influences, the pope himself, Gregory the Fifth, 
having been placed upon the throne by his cousin, young 
Otho the Third of Germany, who was then but sixteen years 
of age, whilst Gregory only numbered twenty-five years. 
Crescentius raised up an antipope and drove away Gregory, 
who went to Pavia, and recalling Otho, returned to Rome 
in his company. The antipope was taken and suffered the 
most cruel mutilation at the hands of his ruthless adver- 
saries, who compelled him to ride seated backwards on an 
ass, in the torn vestments he had usurped, through the 
streets of the city. Crescentius entrenched himself in the 
fortress of St. Angelo ; but after some resistance capi- 
tulated, on condition that his life and liberty should be 
spared. No sooner, however, had Otho entered the castle 
than Crescentius, together with twelve of his followers, were 
beheaded, and their bodies suspended from the battlements ; 
Stefania, the beloved and beautiful wife of Crescentius, 
being subjected to the most brutal violence. Disquieted 
by remorse for these misdeeds, and perhaps moved by 
the superstitious fear that the end of the world was ap- 
proaching, as was the general belief and prophecy at 
that time, Otho undertook a pilgrimage to the sanctuary 
of St. Michel on Monte Gargano, in the kingdom of Naples. 
On his return he fell sick by the way, when Stefania 
caused it to reach his ears that she had great power and 
skill in the art of healing. She was summoned to his 
couch, and, lulling all suspicion by her blandishments, ad- 
ministered to him a dose of poison, thus revenging at the 
same time her husband's wrongs and her own. Otho died 
at Paterno, on the borders of the Abruzzi, on the nine- 
teenth of January, in the year one thousand and two, the 
last representative of the imperial house of Saxony. 

The building began to assume its present appearance 
towards the end of the fourteenth century. Its walls were 



92 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



raised. It was surrounded by strong fortifications. The 
walled corridor connecting it with the Vatican was built 
in the year fourteen hundred and eleven. It would be 
impossible here to follow all its later vicissitudes. One 
historic picture, however, must be presented of the impor- 
tant position it occupied during the siege and sack of Rome 
by the conjoined forces of Spain and Germany in the year 
fifteen hundred and twenty-seven. 

Charles the Fifth, emperor of Germany and Spain, after 
driving out the French from the greater part of Italy, 
(Francis the First having been taken prisoner at the battle 
of Pavia, in the year fifteen hundred and twenty-five), be- 
came an object of jealousy to Pope Clement the Seventh, 
who, to curb his growing power, allied himself with the 
French and some of the Italian States. Charles' army 
was led by the Duke of Bourbon, who was kinsman to the 
king, but had renounced the interests of France and joined 
the service of its enemy in consequence of some of his 
estates having been confiscated, and his stipend as con- 
stable withdrawn through the disappointed passion of 
Maria Louisa, the king's mother, who had fallen in love 
with him. 

Under these circumstances the army approached the 
walls of Rome, both the military and civil inhabitants of 
which felt so secure in their fancied power and the supposed 
weakness of the enemy, that they took few or no precau- 
tions to avert the misfortune that awaited them. Not 
until the enemy was at the gate was it thought necessary 
even to store and victual the castle of St. Angelo, the main 
fortress of the city. 

Yet with all this confidence the records of the time give 
a list of omens and prognostics of the horrors about to 
ensue, some of them reminding one of the old superstitions 
of Greece and Rome. Long before the enemy approached 
the gates of the city a man from Siena, in the character of 
a prophet, described as of " mature age, dark skin, naked, 
emaciated, and apparently very religious and devout," went 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



93 



about predicting the certain ruin of the priests and of all 
the Roman court, and the resuscitation of the church ; fore- 
warning the people in a loud and fearful voice that the 
hour of repentance had come, for the scourge was at hand : 
and though put in prison he still stoutly maintained his 
prophecy, gaining many to believe him. Another warning 
was, that an image of the Madonna at the church of Santa 
Maria, in Traspontina, had been struck by lightning, her 
crown being shivered, and the Infant broken to pieces in 
her arms. Another accident also was interpreted to be 
of sinister import : the host placed in the tabernacle on 
Holy Thursday had fallen from its receptacle to the ground. 
"Assured signs," says the chronicler, "quite sufficient to 
reasonably intimidate every devout Christian." 

After maintaining a vigorous contest outside of the city, 
the enemy found a weak place near Santo Spirito, where 
a house had been built into the walls, and here they at 
last effected an entrance. As soon as the news had spread 
through the city the greatest consternation prevailed. The 
pope was hurried immediately to the castle, crying out 
that he had been betrayed, and lamenting the slaughter 
and lawless outrages which he saw from the windows as he 
passed along the narrow corridor. Everybody rushed to 
the castle ; so that, amongst cardinals, prelates and others 
who had forced their way into it, there were no fewer 
than three thousand persons. It was defended by Cellini, 
amongst others, who acted as a gunner on the occasion. 
If his own account is to be believed, he performed almost 
superhuman feats of courage and skill, killing the Duke of 
Bourbon (Guicciardini, however, says he was shot on a 
scaling ladder outside of the walls) on his first approaching 
the fortress. The defence was maintained for almost a 
month, but being at last' obliged to capitulate, the pope 
was confined a prisoner within it, until he made his escape 
to Orvieto, carrying with him the tiara-jewels sewn into 
his garments by Benvenuto Cellini, who little thought that by 
so friendly a service he was laying the ostensible founda- 



94 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



tion for the subsequent miseries which he suffered within 
the very walls he had so gallantly defended. 

There are several accounts extant of this terrible occur- 
rence, from one of which, bearing the name of Jacopo 
Buonaparte, a few extracts may be made. In pursuing 
his narrative he says, " No less horrible a spectacle was it 
to see the men of a grey old age, whose grade and aspect 
were full of gravity and reverence, who had been honoured 
and respected of all for the high authority vested in them 
in Rome ; for their virtues, good sense, and position, now 
scorned and outraged ; neither learning, arts, nor religion 
serving to exempt people from such disgraceful treatment. 
It appeared truly as if that city which was accustomed to 
be the conqueror of all nations, the seat of honourable 
triumphs, the abode of glory, and the true and assured 
domicile of religion, had been reserved for these evil-doers 
in order that they might raise a shameful trophy to infamy 
and dishonour of the most esteemed men within it." 

In another place the historian proceeds : " How many 
rare and valuable relics covered with gold and silver were 
despoiled by bloody and homicidal hands, and in derision 
of religion cast down to the ground ! The heads of St. 
Peter, of St. Paul, of St. Andrew, and of many other saints, 
the wood of the Cross, the Thorns, the holy Oil, even the 
consecrated Host were shamefully trampled under foot- 
Nothing else was to be seen in the streets but plunderers 
and vile scoundrels carrying great bundles of rich stuffs, 
ecclesiastical ornaments, and large sacks filled with various 
sorts of vessels in gold and silver, savouring more of the 
proud riches and vain pomps of the Roman court than 
of the humble poverty and true devotion of the Christian 
religion. Vast numbers of prisoners of every quality were 
to be seen crying and shrieking, hurried rapidly along by 
bands of ultramontanes to the wealthy chambers where 
their treasures were stored. Numerous dead bodies lay 
about the streets, some cut to pieces, covered with mud 
and their own blood ; whilst others, only half alive, lay 



Chap. V. 



ROME, 



95 



miserably on the ground. Often enough, amidst the frenzy, 
girls, men, and boys were seen to jump from the windows, 
either voluntarily or by compulsion, in order that they 
might not fall a living prey into the hands of this embruted 
and ferocious people." 

The details of the miserable sufferings of the Romans 
at this unhappy time are too harrowing to follow closely. 
The most horrible cruelties alternated with the most abomi- 
nable blasphemies ; as if the incarnate spirit of evil had 
itself broken loose and was determined to do its worst. 
Amongst other sickening outrages a priest was put to 
death with the greatest ignominy and cruelty for refusing to 
give the sacrament ("ah, hard earth, why dost thou not 
open !" exclaims the historian .in narrating the circumstance) 
to a dressed-up ass. Some arrayed themselves in sacer- 
dotal vestments and mocked the service of God at the 
altars of the churches with horrid oaths and blasphemies. 
We are told that during this Brocken feast of horrors the 
Spaniards were at first much worse than the Germans ; 
but that afterwards the latter, seeing that the cruelties 
practised by their comrades were followed by success in 
producing a larger quantity of booty, set themselves to super- 
sede all others in brutal ways and inventions. " For which 
reason," pursues the historian, " it is impossible to imagine 
a torment, however intolerable, to which, on account of 
their insatiable avarice, their wretched and miserable pri- 
soners were not repeatedly subjected. With how much 
patience these were endured by dainty and delicate prelates 
and effeminated courtiers it is easy to comprehend, knowing 
how difficult it was for them in their prosperous fortune 
to support, I will not say severe ailments of the , body and 
heavy troubles of the mind, but even so much as the bite of 
a fly." 

Ranke, in his ' History of the Popes,' describing this event 
says, "The imperial army entered Rome two hours before 
sunset. Without a leader to check their ferocity the 
bloodthirsty soldiers, hardened by long privation, poured 



9 6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



like a torrent over the city. Never did a richer booty fall 
into the hands of a more terrible army ; never was there 
a more protracted and more ruinous pillage. The splendour 
of Rome fills the beginning of the sixteenth century ; it 
marks an astonishing period of the development of the 
human mind ; with this day it was extinguished for ever." 

The interior horrors of the castle of St. Angelo as a 
prison have been graphically described by Platina, the 
biographer of the popes, who was confined here under Paul 
the Second in fourteen hundred and sixty-eight, accused 
of conspiracy ; but, it would appear, without any proofs 
of guilt. He says that after he and some others had been 
taken to the castle, the pope sent his vice-chamberlain 
Vianesio of Bologna, who, fto follow Platina's own words, 
"caused us to suffer every sort of torture to make us 
confess what we did not know. On the first and second 
day many were tortured, a great proportion of whom 
fainted in their agony. You would have thought at that 
time that the tomb of Hadrian had been converted into 
the bull of Phalaris, so terribly did its hollow concave 
resound with the cries of the miserable young men." He 
then describes his own tortures by the rope, condemning 
the conduct of the vice-chamberlain, whose office should 
have forbidden his presence on such an occasion, who, he 
says, sat making unseemly jokes " on outspread carpets as 
if at a wedding, or rather at the supper of Atreus and 
Tantalus." 

Eleven years after the sack of Rome above described, 
Benvenuto Cellini, the celebrated artist in precious metals, 
was a long time confined prisoner in the castle by Pope Paul 
the Third, under the accusation of having stolen some of the 
pontifical jewels at the time of his predecessor's flight to 
Orvieto. Cellini himself, however, says that he was entirely 
innocent, and that his imprisonment was an act of jealousy 
on the part of the pope's favourites. No narrative can do 
justice to his sorrows but his own in that most inimitable of 
all autobiographies, a few particulars from which may be 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



97 



given here. It was in vain that he pleaded for evidence of 
his crime or the means to clear himself. In no respectful 
manner he urged the injustice of his accusation, which in 
that arbitrary state of legislature served but to aggravate 
his punishment. He was placed in a dungeon feebly 
lighted : but fortunately met with a friendly countryman, 
a Florentine, in the constable of the castle. From him he 
received many indulgences, and finally was permitted con- 
siderable liberty on his parole not to misuse it, until he fell 
under suspicion of abetting a monk in the fabrication of a 
duplicate key. From this charge he exculpated himself, 
explaining that the wax in which the model was formed 
had been stolen from some which he had used for modelling 
small figures. The severity, however, with which he was 
treated on this occasion caused him to think of attempting 
his escape from the castle. For this end he managed to 
retain some of the sheets of his bed instead of sending 
them to be washed, which he cut into strips and carefully 
secreted. He was aided in his project by an extraordinary 
circumstance which will be best told in his own words. 

"The constable of the castle had annually a certain 
disorder, which totally deprived him of his senses, and 
when the fit came upon him he was talkative to excess. 
Every year he had some different whim ; one time he 
fancied himself metamorphosed into a pitcher of oil ; 
another time he fancied himself a frog, and began to hop 
as such ; another time, again, he imagined he was dead, 
and it was found necessary to humour his conceit by 
making a show of burying him : thus had he every year 
some new frenzy. This year he fancied himself a bat, and 
when he went to take a walk, he sometimes made just such 
a, noise as bats do ; he likewise used gestures with his 
hands and his body, as if he were going to fly. His 
physicians and his old servants, who knew his disorder, 
procured him all the pleasures and amusements they could 
think of; and as they found he delighted greatly in my 
conversation, they frequently came to me to conduct me to 

H 



98 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



his apartment, where the poor man often detained me 
three or four hours chatting with him. He sometimes 
kept me at his table to dine or sup, and always made me 
sit opposite to him, on which occasion he never ceased to 
talk himself, or to encourage me to join in conversation. 
At these interviews I generally took care to eat heartily, 
but the poor constable neither ate nor slept, insomuch that 
I was tired and jaded with constant attendance. Upon 
examining his countenance, I could perceive that his eyes 
looked quite shockingly, and that he began to squint. He 
asked me whether I had ever a fancy to fly. I answered, 
that I had always been very ready to attempt such things 
as men found most difficult ; and that with regard to 
flying, as God had given me a body admirably well cal- 
culated for running, I had even resolution enough to 
attempt to fly. He then proposed to me to explain how I 
could contrive it. I answered, that when I attentively 
considered the several creatures that fly, and thought of 
effecting by art what they do by the force of nature, I did 
not find one so fit to imitate as the bat. As soon as the 
poor man heard mention made of a bat, his frenzy for the 
year turning upon that animal, he cried out aloud, ' It is 
very true, a bat is the thing.' He then addressed himself 
to me, and said, ' Benvenuto, if you had the opportunity, 
would you have the heart to make an attempt to fly ?' I 
answered, that if he would give me leave, I had courage 
enough to attempt to fly as far as Prati by means of a pair 
of wings waxed over. He said, thereupon, ' I should like 
to see you fly ; but as the pope has enjoined me to watch 
over you with the utmost care, and I know that you have 
the cunning of the devil, and would avail yourself of the 
opportunity to make your escape, I am resolved to keep 
you locked up with a hundred keys, that you may not slip 
out of my hand.' I then began to solicit him with new 
entreaties, putting him in mind that I had had it in my 
power to make my escape, but through regard to the 
promise I had made him, would never avail myself of the 



Chap.. V. 



ROME. 



99 



opportunity. I therefore besought him for the love of 
God, and as he had conferred so many obligations on me, 
that he would not make my condition worse than it was. 
Whilst I uttered these words, he gave instant orders that 
I should be secured and confined a closer prisoner than 
ever. When I saw that it was to no purpose to entreat 
him any farther, I said before all present, ' Confine me as 
close as you please, I will contrive to make my escape not- 
withstanding.' So they carried me off, and locked me up 
with the utmost care."* 

From this moment Cellini's mind was fully made up. 
First of all he formed his sheets into bands, which he 
sewed together, and having managed to obtain . a pair of 
pincers, he commenced to draw out the nails from the iron 
plates of his door, which he did with a great deal of diffi- 
culty, particularly as he was occasionally visited during 
the night to satisfy the fears of the constable. As fast as 
he drew out one of these nails, the form of the head was 
imitated in wax mixed with rusty filings, so as to deceive 
the eye ; the various articles being hidden in the ticking of 
his bed, from which he managed to divert inspection. At 
last his preparations being completed, he put his project in 
practice in the following manner. 

" One holiday evening, the constable being very much dis- 
ordered, and his madness being at the highest pitch, he 
scarce said anything else but that he was become a bat, 
and desired his people, that if Benvenuto happened to 
make his escape, they should take no notice of it, for he 
must soon catch me, as he should, doubtless, be much 
better able to fly by night than I ; adding, ' Benvenuto is 
only a counterfeit bat, but I am a bat in good earnest. 
Let me alone to manage him ; I shall be able to catch 
him, I warrant you.' His frenzy continuing thus in its 
utmost violence for several nights, he tired the patience of 
all his servants ; and I by various means came to the 
knowledge of all that passed, though I was indebted for 
* This and succeeding quotations are taken from Roscoe's translation. 

H 2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



my chief information to the Savoyard, who was very much 
attached to me. 

" As I had formed a resolution to attempt my escape that 
night, let what would happen, I began with praying fer- 
vently to Almighty God, that it would please his divine 
majesty to befriend and assist me in that hazardous enter- 
prise. I then went to work, and was employed the whole 
night in preparing whatever I had occasion for. Two 
hours before daybreak I took the iron plates from the door 
with great trouble and difficulty, for the bolt and the wood 
that received it made a great resistance, so that I could 
not open them, but was obliged to cut the wood. I, how- 
ever, at last forced the door, and having taken with me the 
above-mentioned slips of linen, which I had rolled up in 
bundles with the utmost care, I went out and got upon the 
right side of the tower, and having observed, from within, 
two tiles of the roof, I leaped upon them with the utmost 
ease. I was in a white doublet, and had on a pair of white 
half hose, over which I wore a pair of little light boots, 
that reached half way up my legs, and in one of these I 
put my dagger. I then took the end of one of my bundles 
of long slips, which I had made out of the sheets of my 
bed, and fastened it to one of the tiles of the roof that 
happened to jut out four inches, and the long string of 
slips was fastened to the tiles in the manner of a stirrup. 
When I had fixed it firmly, I addressed myself to the 
Deity in these terms. ' Almighty God, favour my cause, 
for thou knowest it is a just one, and I am not on my part 
wanting in my utmost efforts to make it succeed.' Then 
letting myself down gently, and the whole weight of my 
body being sustained by my arm, I at last reached the 
ground. 

" It was not a moonlight night, but the stars shone with 
resplendent lustre. When I had touched the ground, I 
first contemplated the great height which I had descended 
with so much courage ; and then walked away in high joy, 
thinking I had recovered my liberty. But I soon found 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



ioi 



myself mistaken ; for the constable had caused two pretty 
high walls to be erected on that side, which made an in- 
closure for a stable and poultry-yard. This place was 
fastened with great bolts on the outside. When I saw 
myself immured in this inclosure, I felt the greatest anxiety 
imaginable. Whilst I was walking backwards and for- 
wards, I stumbled on a long pole covered with straw ; this 
I with much difficulty fixed against the wall, and by the 
strength of my arms climbed to the top of it ; but as the 
wall was sharp I could not get a sufficient hold to enable 
me to descend by the pole to the other side. I therefore 
resolved to have recourse to my other string of slips, for 
I had left one tied to the great tower. So I took the 
string, and having fastened it properly, I descended down 
the steep wall. This put me to a great deal of pain and 
trouble, and likewise tore the skin off the palms of my 
hands, insomuch that they were all over bloody, for which 
reason I rested myself a little. When I thought I had 
sufficiently recruited my strength, I came to the last wall, 
which looked towards the meadows ; and having prepared 
my string of long slips, which I wanted to get about one of 
the niched battlements, in order to descend this as I had 
done the higher wall, a sentinel perceived w T hat I was 
about. Finding my design obstructed, and myself in 
danger of. my life, I resolved to cope with the soldier, who 
seeing me advance towards him resolutely with my drawn 
dagger in my hand, thought it most advisable to keep out 
of my way. After I had gone a little way from my string 
I quickly returned to it ; and though I was seen by 
another of the soldiers upon guard, the man did not care 
to take any notice of me. I then fastened my string to 
the niched battlement, and began to let myself down. 
Whether it was owing to my being near the ground and 
preparing to give a leap, or whether my hands were quite 
tired, I do not know, but being unable to hold any longer, 
I fell, and in falling struck my head, and became quite 
insensible. 



102 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



" I continued in that state about an hour and a half, as 
nearly as I can guess. The day beginning to break, the 
cool breeze that precedes the rising of the sun brought me 
to myself ; but I had not yet thoroughly recovered my 
senses, for I had conceived a strange notion that I had 
been beheaded and was then in purgatory. I, however, by 
degrees recovered my strength and powers ; and perceiving 
that I had got out of the castle, I soon recollected all that 
had befallen me. As I perceived that my senses had been 
affected, before I took notice that my leg was broken, I 
clapped my hands to my head, and found them all bloody. 
I afterwards searched my body all over, and thought I had 
received no hurt of any consequence ; but upon attempting 
to rise from the ground, I found that my right leg was 
broken three inches above the heel, which threw me into a 
terrible consternation. I thereupon pulled my dagger 
with its scabbard out of my boot. This scabbard was 
cased with a large piece of metal at the bottom, which 
occasioned the hurt of my leg ; as the bone could not bend 
any way, it broke in that place. I therefore threw away 
the scabbard, and cutting the part of my string of slips 
that I still had left, I bandaged my leg as well as I could. 
I then crept on my hands and knees towards the gate, with 
my dagger in my hand, and upon coming up to it, found 
it shut ; but observing a stone under the gate, and thinking 
that it did not stick very fast, I prepared to push it away. 
Clapping my hands to it, I found that I could move it 
with ease ; so I soon pulled it out, and effected my egress. 
It was about five hundred paces from the place where I 
had had my fall to the gate at which I entered the city. 

" As sooir as I got in, some mastiff dogs came up, and bit 
me severely ; finding that they persisted to worry me, I 
took my dagger and gave one of them so severe a stab, 
that he set up a loud howling ; whereupon all the dogs in 
the neighbourhood, as it is the nature of those animals, ran 
up to him ; and I made all the haste I could to crawl to- 
wards the church of Sta. Maria Transpontina. When I 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



103 



arrived at the entrance of the street that leads towards the 
castle of St. Angelo, I took my way thence towards St. 
Peter's gate ; but as it was then broad daylight, I reflected 
that I was in great danger, and happening to meet with a 
water-carrier, who had loaded his ass, and filled his vessels 
with water, I called to him and begged he would put me 
upon the beast's back, and carry me to the landing-place of 
the steps of St. Peter's church. I told him that I was an 
unfortunate youth, who had been concerned in a love- 
intrigue, and had made an attempt to get out at a window, 
from which I had fallen, and broken my leg ; but as the 
house I came out of belonged to a person of the first rank, 
I should be in danger of being cut to pieces if discovered. 
I therefore earnestly entreated him to take me up, and 
offered to give him a gold crown ; so saying, I clapped 
my hand to my purse, which was very well lined. The 
honest waterman instantly took me upon his back, and 
carried me to the steps before St. Peter's church, where I 
desired him to leave me and to run back to his ass. 

" I immediately set out, crawling in the same manner I 
had done before, in order to reach the house of the duchess, 
consort to Duke Ottavio, natural daughter to the emperor, 
and who had been formerly married to Alessandro, the 
late Duke of Florence. I knew that there were several of 
my friends with that princess, who had attended her from 
Florence ; as likewise I had the happiness of being in her 
excellency's good graces. This last circumstance had been 
partly owing to the constable of the castle, who, having a 
desire to befriend me, told the pope that when the duchess 
made her entry into Rome, I prevented a damage of above 
a thousand crowns, that they were likely to suffer by a 
heavy rain ; upon which occasion, when he was almost in 
despair, I had revived his drooping courage, by pointing 
several pieces of artillery towards that tract of the heavens 
where the thickest clouds had gathered ; so that when the 
shower began to fall, I fired my pieces, whereupon the 
clouds dispersed, and the sun again shone out in all its 



io4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



brightness. Therefore it was entirely owing to me that the 
above day of rejoicing had been happily concluded. This 
coming to the ears of the duchess, her excellency said that 
Benvenuto was one of those men of genius who loved the 
memory of her husband, the Duke Alessandro, and she 
should always remember such, whenever an opportunity 
offered of doing them services. She had likewise spoken of 
me to Duke Ottavio, her husband. I was, therefore, going 
directly to the place where her excellency resided, which 
was in Borgo Vecchio, at a magnificent palace. There I 
should have been perfectly secure of any danger of falling 
into the pope's hands ; but as the exploit I had already 
performed was too extraordinary for a human creature, and 
lest I should be puffed up with vain glory, God was pleased 
to put me to a still severer trial than that which I had 
already gone through. 

'* What gave occasion to this was, that whilst I was crawl- 
ing along upon all four, one of the servants of Cardinal 
Cornaro knew me, and, running immediately to his master's 
apartment, awaked him out of his sleep, saying to him, « My 
most reverend lord, here is your jeweller, Benvenuto, who 
has made his escape out of the castle, and is crawling along 
upon all four, quite besmeared with blood ; by what I can 
judge from appearances, he seems to have broken one of 
his legs, and we cannot guess whither he is bending his 
course.' The cardinal, the moment he heard this, said to 
his servants, ' Run and bring him hither to my apartment 
upon your backs.' When I came into his presence, the 
good cardinal bade me fear nothing, and immediately sent 
for some of the most eminent surgeons of Rome to take 
care of me ; amongst these was Signor Giacopo of Perugia, 
an excellent practitioner. This last set the bone, then 
bandaged my leg and bled me. As my veins were swelled 
more than usual, and he wanted to make a pretty wide 
incision, the blood gushed from me with such violence, and 
in so great a quantity, that it spurted into his face, and 
covered him in such a manner, that he found it a very 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



difficult matter to continue his operation. He looked upon 
this as very ominous, and was with difficulty prevailed upon 
to attend me afterwards ; nay, he was several times for 
leaving me, recollecting that he had run a great hazard by 
having anything to do with me. The cardinal then caused 
me to be put into a private apartment, and went directly 
to the Vatican, in order to intercede in my behalf with the 
pope." 

This, however, was not the last time that the unfortunate 
Cellini saw the inside of the castle. Undermined by his 
enemies in the favour of the pope, he was finally immured 
in a worse dungeon, on the horrors of which he dwells very 
graphically in his biography. It was then that his religious 
feelings were fully awakened, and the fiery and mettlesome 
bravado stained with so many homicides, wasted with long 
confinement and the lack of light, want of proper food and 
all the wholesome necessaries of life, was reduced to the 
devotional visionary for whom life had no longer any at- 
traction. When they came one day to place him in a still 
more horrible dungeon, he says, " I never once turned about, 
nor took any notice of them ; on the contrary, I worshipped 
God the Father, surrounded with a host of angels, and 
Christ rising victorious over death, which I had drawn upon 
the wall with a piece of charcoal that I picked off the 
ground." Blackened with torches, dim with antiquity, the 
figures still remain, barely discernible, the monument of 
his bitter sufferings. 

It was long before he was set at liberty. Finally, in an 
impressible moment the pope consented to his enlargement, 
and soon the self-assertive and audacious braggart, the 
impetuous brawler and wonderful artist was as spirited, 
active and energetic as ever. 

Amongst other dark episodes in the history of this castle- 
tomb may be mentioned the imprisonment of Benedetto da 
Foiano, a popular preacher in Florence in the times of the 
Medici. He was a follower of Savonarola, and in the 
struggle against the Medicean power in the year fifteen 



io6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



hundred and twenty-eight Benedetto did all he could to 
excite the people in defence of the republic. He is described 
as a man of fine personal appearance, of much learning and 
singular eloquence, drawing together vast audiences. He 
was betrayed to Malatesta Baglioni by a traitorous soldier 
who had undertaken to favour his escape, and sent to Pope 
Clement the Seventh (himself a Medici), by whom he was 
immured in a dark and noisome dungeon in the castle of 
St. Angelo, where, in spite of the friendly desires of the 
governor of the castle to mitigate the resentment of the 
pope against him, after many months, wanting every 
decency and comfort, the little bread and water allowed to 
him were gradually diminished until he died miserably ; 
the too hard fate of an energetic and earnest reformer. 
" Truly," says the historian Varchi in relating this pitiable 
story, " he was worthy of a greater and better fortune, or 
should have been gifted with less learning and eloquence." 

From this period the castle remained in undisturbed 
possession of the papal power, until the year seventeen 
hundred and ninety-eight, when it was taken by a republican 
French garrison, nine thousand strong, who did some 
damage to the outer works by setting fire to a powder 
magazine. It was afterwards retaken by the Neapolitans 
for the papal government. In the year eighteen hundred 
and eight it was again taken by the French, and only es- 
caped another occupation six years afterwards by a speedy 
capitulation. 

It would, indeed, appear as if this wonderful pile were 
indestructible. When taken from the French occupation 
for the antipope in one thousand three hundred and seventy- 
nine, the irate Romans set themselves to destroy it alto- 
gether ; but after labouring with all their might upon it for 
several days, they made so little impression that they gave 
it up in despair. Grim and stern it still keeps watch over 
the river, unchanged through all changes, defying decay and 
the ruthless hand of Time. 

Immediately past the bridge on the right bank of the 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



107 



river stands the Apollo theatre, the opera house of Rome. 
It is built on the site of the old Torre di Nona, a prison in 
which criminals were placed previous to execution. It 
was from this place that the unfortunate Beatrice Cenci 
and her step-mother were led to execution. Here another 
bridge crossed the river, the Pons Vaticanus. Pironesi and 
some other archaeologists claim it for the Pons Triumphalis. 
There is now little to indicate its site excepting a few 
remains, on which the modern theatre is built. 

Advancing along the river, spreading meadows sweep 
from the left bank to the very foot of the Vatican. The 
region of the old Campus Martius lies on the right, now 
entirely covered with streets and houses. Presently we 
arrive at the Ripetta, or wharf, consisting of a picturesque 
flight of steps, the material for which was taken from the 
Coliseum. Here a ferry-boat attached to a rope carried 
across the stream, passes to and fro by the force of the 
current. On the same side as the wharf, separated from 
the immediate banks of the river by a street, is the round 
mausoleum, or tomb of the family of Augustus, the first 
emperor of Rome, by whom it was built. It is now sur- 
rounded with buildings ; and it is only here and there that 
fragments of the ancient masonry (opus reticulatum) are 
visible. With the help of Strabo's description, it is not 
difficult to form an idea of its primitive magnificence. It 
was covered with white marble and surmounted by a 
tumulus of earth planted with cypresses, and crowned by a 
colossal bronze statue of the emperor. Adjoining were 
groves and pleasure grounds. At one side was the bustum, 
or place for burning the bodies of the dead, also of white 
•marble, surrounded with a double inclosure, of marble and 
iron, and planted about with ever-sighing poplars. At the 
entrance of the mausoleum stood two obelisks, now removed, 
the one to Santa Maria Maggiore, and the other to the 
piazza of the Quirinal. There were fourteen chambers 
ranged round the great rotunda in the interior, the whole 
diameter being about two hundred and thirty feet. 



io8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



Whilst dwelling upon the monument, let us spend a few 
moments upon its occupants. First of all upon him who 
raised it ; for the emperor Augustus was not only himself 
a remarkable man, but lived in a remarkable era. His age 
stood exactly between ancient and modern civilizations, the 
old world and the new, paganism and Christianity. It was 
distinguished by the noblest intellectual works of antiquity ; 
it has become a proverb for culture and refinement, and 
perhaps there is no recorded period wherein so much was 
done destined to exercise so large and abiding an influence 
on the education of the human race. It brought forth Livy, 
Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Tibullus and Propertius ; but it was 
marked by a still more important event, and one that has 
given colour to the whole subsequent history of a large 
proportion of mankind, and is yet to produce greater and 
larger results, the birth of Jesus Christ. 

There are few characters ancient or modern which have 
afforded so great a puzzle to historians and biographers, or 
been the subject of so much discussion and difference of 
opinion, as that of Augustus the first emperor of Rome. In 
his own time his true character and disposition appear to 
have been as little fathomable as they are to us now. He 
was either one of the noblest and most disinterested of men 
or the most consummate and successful of actors. He was 
born in the year sixty-three before Christ : his father was 
Octavius a senator, and his mother Accia the sister of 
Julius Caesar. At the age of twenty he showed the greatest 
tact and discrimination in affairs. He formed a triumvirate 
with Antony and Lepidus, but soon found means to shake 
off his companions in government and occupy the imperial 
seat alone. This triumvirate had to answer for the blood 
of three hundred senators and two hundred knights, and 
the death of the orator Cicero, a professed friend of 
Augustus ; acts of cruelty the odium of which clung to him 
always afterwards. No sooner however was his rule estab- 
lished than his policy became one of the utmost mildness 
combined with the most perfect prudence. Indeed he might 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



be said to have made himself a lesson to all rulers : true 
emperor by prescriptive right ; a man and a king, neither 
forgetting the one nor confounding the other. He was 
warrior, poet and historian. He was the model of a 
dignified and cultivated gentleman. He was at once 
courteous and manly, tender and courageous ; his tears 
could flow for a friend and his hand be frankly extended to 
an enemy. He appeared to be always the servant of his 
country and his people, and to have their welfare at heart 
more than his own. He never made unnecessary or unjust 
war. The temple of Janus was closed thrice in his life-time 
— only closed twice before in the whole history of the city. 
He once thought of resigning the empire and restoring the 
republic, and was only induced to retain his position on the 
representation of the general welfare. Many wise and 
beneficial measures marked his reign, and many improve- 
ments were made in the city. He congratulated himself 
that he had found Rome of brick and left it of marble. He 
abhorred titles and avoided compliments. When he was 
slandered he said, " I too can speak," and when his friends 
would have had him take further notice of it, he replied that 
" words did no harm." He melted down the silver statues 
set up to him, and made of them tripods for the temple of 
Apollo. He had a particular aversion to the sumptuousness 
of a palace, and always sought a less pretentious residence. 
He voted in his tribe as one of the people, and appeared in 
a court of justice as witness for an old soldier. He re- 
commended his sons to the people if they deserved it, and 
though he did not forget his friends, he never bestowed 
exclusive privileges on them as such. When he was styled 
the Father of his country the tears came to his eyes, as he 
said he wished for no other honour than its welfare and the 
continuance of his people's affection. His house was frugal, 
his table plain to himself, generous to his friends ; his habits 
temperate. He educated personally and carefully his 
children and grandchildren, whom he always liked to have 
with him and about him. Shortly before his death, when 



I IO 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



at the island of Capri, whither he had gone on account of 
his health, he spent his visit in the holiday diversions of the 
inhabitants, making scrambles for the boys, joking with the 
people and entertaining them. Arrived at Nola near Naples 
he was seized with his mortal illness. He called for a mirror, 
adjusted his person and had his toilette made, asking the 
bystanders if he had acted his part well in life, and if so, 
requesting that they would applaud him. He died suddenly 
in the arms of his wife Livia, begging her not to forget 
their union, and bidding her a tender farewell.* His body 
was carried in the night-time from town to town by the 
several magistrates and officers of the places which it had to 
traverse, reposing during the heat of the day within some 
basilica or temple. It was met at Bovillae on the Appian Way 
by the equestrian orders, who brought it to Rome by night. 
The next morning the magistrates assembled, wearing robes 
stripped of their purple trimmings ; Tiberius and Drusus, 
foster-sons of the defunct emperor, being clothed in ash- 
coloured garments : his will was then read. The corpse was 
laid out and incense burnt before it. On the day of the 
funeral those who were to take part in the ceremony 
assembled in the morning. A designator distributed the 
order of the procession ; and soon it began to move to the 
sound of horns and flutes, sometimes wailing in the saddest 
tones and then swelling into triumphant strains, as if to 
bear away the spirit of the dead. After these followed 
women chanting the praises of the departed and mourning 
the sad chance that had robbed him of life ; then came 
mimes or actors : one of them personating the dead emperor 
in his manners and appearance ; then his statue robed 
in a triumphal habit, carried by the prospective magistrates 
of the following year, this statue being accompanied by 
another all of gold, and after that a third in a triumphal 
chariot ; these were followed by statues of all his ancestors 
and relations, excepting Julius Caesar who had been deified ; 

* Suetonius says his last words were, " Livia, conjugii nostri memor, vive 
et vale." 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



in 



then came the images of all the ancient Romans of note 
from Romulus downwards ; then numberless freedmen 
bearing tablets and other devices on which were inscribed 
the name and deeds of the emperor, together with tokens 
and emblems of the provinces he had subdued ; last of all 
the body itself laid upon a bed of gold and ivory, trimmed 
with purple, covered over with a black pall. On reaching 
the Forum the corpse was set down, when Drusus read some 
papers and Tiberius pronounced a funeral oration over it. 
Then it was carried through the Triumphal gate followed by 
the senators and knights with their wives, guards, soldiers, 
in short, the whole inhabitants of Rome, to the bustum or 
inclosed space for burning near the mausoleum in the 
Campus Martius. Here a funeral pile was erected of fir- 
wood hung with festoons, tapestry and costly draperies, 
and planted about with cypress trees. Upon this the 
body was placed together with the bed upon which it was 
laid. The eyelids of the corpse were opened that the light 
of heaven might be mirrored within them. A last kiss from 
the nearest and dearest was imprinted on the pallid lips. 
Three times the procession passed round the pile, throw- 
ing various precious gifts upon it — oils, odours, and rich 
ornaments ; the soldiers even casting upon it the rewards 
they had obtained for distinguishing themselves in the 
sendee of the state under his generalship. Many of the 
spectators also threw upon the pile gums, frankincense and 
valuable offerings of various kinds, together with locks of 
their own hair. When this was done the centurions set fire 
to it with averted faces amidst loud wailings and great cries 
from the whole multitude.* As the flames rose an eagle 
was seen to soar in the air, which was supposed to carry the 
soul of the defunct up to heaven. 

For five days the desolate Livia, wife of the emperor, 

* This outcry was raised before lighting the pyre, in order to awaken 
the corpse if it should be only in a trance. The elder Pliny tells a story of 
a person waking up by the heat of the flames when the pyre had been 
kindled, but too late to be saved. 



112 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V 



clothed .in white and accompanied by a number of knights, 
watched the expiring flames and crumbling ashes. Then 
what remained of the dead from the destructive fire was 
carefully gathered, washed in wine and milk, then dried 
upon a funeral cloth and finally placed with spices, odours 
and rich gums, in an urn marked with a pious D.M. — thus 
consigning him to the care of the deities of the dead — and 
reverently carried to the mausoleum : after which the priest 
sprinkled those present with pure water from a laurel 
bough, and they retired leaving the ashes of the departed 
to their repose with a mournful " Farewell ! " 

The features, form, and bearing of Augustus are all 
familiar to us through the sculptures still existing of him, 
from the handsome and refined-looking boy to the com- 
manding general and imperial ruler. He had rather a low 
forehead, his hair was straight, his nose aquiline, his eye 
bright, his face and features bearing a look of breeding and 
culture without any trace of malice, sensuousness, or craft 
upon them, his figure erect and vigorous — a man looking 
more like one fitted for command than obedience, but not 
in anywise harsh or severe. 

Tacitus says there were many and various opinions ex- 
pressed of him after his death. Some extolled him 
amongst the noblest and most disinterested of the race, 
others attributed to him an underlying selfishness and politic 
egotism as the main-spring of his life and actions. Perhaps 
neither were quite right. He may have begun to some 
extent as a political egotist and ended with a large 
patriotism and genuine love of his kind and country. It 
would be scarcely a wonder if the best of the Romans 
at that time should have grown up selfish and cruel, edu- 
cated amidst so much selfishness and cruelty — at least until 
reason and reflection had asserted their sway with sufficient 
force to induce individual views and prescribe an indepen- 
dent line of conduct. Augustus may have been schooled 
into these as we are all of us schooled, through the training 
of experience and the added thoughtfulness of years. 



CHAP. V. 



ROME. 



113 



However this may have been, divine honours were decreed 
to him at his death, the place where he died was conse- 
crated and temples raised to his honour. His memory is 
preserved to us even to this day in the names of one of the 
months of our calendar, that of his birth. 

Augustus, however, was not the first to be placed within 
the mausoleum. Before him the remains of his young, 
nephew Marcellus, already mentioned, had been laid there, 
the beloved of all Rome, whose elegy Virgil sings so nobly 
in his iEneid. " My son," he makes iEneas say, " seek not to 
learn your people's boundless woe : him fate shall but show 
to the world, nor suffer him longer to exist. Too mighty 
had the Roman race appeared to you, ye gods of. heaven, 
had these blessings become its own for ever . . . Give me 
handfuls of lilies ; I would strew bright flowers and 
plenteously : with these gifts at least honour the spirit of 
my descendant, and discharge an unavailing duty." * 

Here also was laid Octavia, his mother, the long-suffering 
wife of the ignoble and irresolute Antony. Sister of 
Augustus, her marriage with Antony had been but a political 
step to assure good feeling between the emperor and his 
colleague. At first Antony could not fail to be attracted 
with so much beauty and virtue, but he soon forgot her 
during his service in the East, exposed to the voluptuous 
blandishments of the Egyptian Cleopatra. Whilst he was 
giving himself up to a life of effeminating pleasure, she was 
educating her children and step-children quietly at home. 
When Antony was about to make an expedition against 
Artavasdes, king of Armenia, she set off with troops and 
money to assist him ; but on arriving at Athens he sent her 
word to return : she did so, but sent forward the resources. 
When the war was over, fascinated by the too potent charms 
of Cleopatra, he sent his faithful wife a bill of divorce. This, 
together with the death of the much-loved Marcellus, off- 

* O nate, ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum ; 
Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra 
Esse sinent, Sec. A'.n. vi. 869. 



I 



ii 4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



spring of a former marriage, preyed upon her mind. She 
died. Her funeral was a public one. Her step-sons carried 
her to her grave, and Augustus himself pronounced her 
funeral oration. 

Another illustrious dweller within the walls of this tomb 
was Germanicus, the able and accomplished general and 
fine-spirited gentleman. He was adopted by Tiberius, 
fought much in the German wars, and was so popular that 
he aroused the bitter envy of his foster-father. He was 
distinguished by some of the noblest traits of antique times, 
He commanded his soldiers faithfully, and knew how to 
refuse an empire when it was offered to him ; preferring 
death to treachery or a defalcation from his allegiance. He 
died from the effects of poison, as was generally supposed, 
secretly administered at Daphne near Antioch, in the thirty- 
fourth year of his age. The news of his death was received 
with the greatest consternation at Rome ; and although 
Tiberius wished to curtail all demonstration and ceremonial 
at his funeral, yet Tacitus tells us that " the day on which 
his remains were deposited in the tomb, at one time ex- 
hibited the silence of perfect desolation, at another the 
uproar of vociferous lamentation ; the streets of the city 
were crowded, one general blaze of torches glared through- 
out the Campus Martius ; there the soldiers under arms, 
the magistrates without the insignia of office, and the people 
ranged according to their tribes, passionately exclaimed, 
that the commonwealth was utterly lost, that henceforth 
there remained no hope, so openly and so boldly that you 
would have believed they had forgotten those who ruled 
over them."* 

Not less worthy of regret was the fate of his noble- 
minded wife Agrippina. She was the very model of a 
Roman matron ; fine of person, severe in morals and cha- 
racter, ambitious, with a largeness of capacity that rendered 
her equal to the highest emergencies. She was with her 
husband in Germany during the campaign. In his absence 
* The Annals, B. iii. Translation in Bonn's series. 



Chai\ V. 



ROME. 



it was rumoured that the Roman army had been cut off in 
the country of the enemy, and that a body of Germans 
was approaching the bridge to invade Gaul. When it was 
proposed to destroy this bridge, which would effectually 
have cut off the retreat of the Romans, she manfully 
withstood the cowardly proposal, herself assuming the 
command of the forces, assisting the wounded and dis- 
tributing clothes and other necessaries with her own hands. 
Her only fault was that of being too much revered by the 
Roman people, who called her the ornament of her country, 
the representative of the race of Augustus, the unmatched 
example of primitive virtue. For this she was banished by 
the cruel command of Tiberius, to Pandataria, a small 
barren island in the Gulf of Gaeta, where she lived miserably 
for three years, and then died, as it was thought, of volun- 
tary starvation ; her ashes being afterwards brought to 
Rome, and deposited here. 

Hither came also the younger Drusus, the son of Tiberius, 
of whom little more need be said than that Tiberius himself 
reproved him for his bloodthirsty cruelty to slaves in the 
arena. He died from the effects of a slow poison adminis- 
tered by an eunuch with the connivance of his wife, at the 
instigation of Sejanus, a designing favourite of Tiberius, 
who had been struck by Drusus. He had a great funeral. 
All his ancestors, real or supposed, from ^Fmeas down- 
wards, were carried in effigy, in a long train. For all that, 
there is no evidence that his death was a matter of much 
regret to any one. 

Here also were placed the remains of the monster 
Tiberius. He was the successor to Augustus, by whom he 
had been adopted and recommended. In early- life he 
distinguished himself as a brave and able general, and his 
reign was begun with a mild and promising policy. Soon, 
however, this was lost sight of. Jealous, tyrannical, libi- 
dinous and cruel, he finally retired to the island of Capri, 
where his worst qualities developed themselves from a 
shameful and unnatural licentiousness to the most horrible 

I 2 



116 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



and revolting cruelty. The ruins of his palace are yet to 
be seen on an elevated promontory of the island, and the 
cliff is still shown whence his miserable victims were hurled 
down to the beach below, from which the sound of the 
falling waves is only heard faintly. Nothing was too mean 
or ignoble for his baseness and brutality ; invention could 
go no farther in abominable lewdness and ferocity. His 
cruelties and vices have become a proverb ; they need not 
be dwelt on here. Suetonius leaves no part of his character 
and none of his ill-doings undescribed. He says that when 
a youth one of his masters used to tell him he was com- 
posed of mire mixed with blood. His evil nature never de- 
serted him. He is described as tall, burly and very strong ; 
so strong that he could wound with a flip, and bore an apple 
with his finger. He had a fair complexion, large eyes, and 
long hair behind. He walked stiffly and uprightly, spoke 
very slowly, and with a slight gesticulation of his fingers. 
There must have been something very repulsive in the 
latter characteristic, since it was remarked upon and disliked 
by the senate and people whilst Augustus was yet alive. 
Augustus, however, excused him, by saying it was his 
natural manner, and meant no harm. He was not without 
literary power. He wrote both in his own tongue and in 
Greek ; devoting a certain portion of his time to study. 
He died at Misenum in the Christian year thirty-seven, and 
the seventy-eighth of his age, after a reign of a little more 
than twenty-two years and a half. When his remains 
were brought to Rome, the people cried out that he should 
be thrown into the Tiber, praying heaven and earth that he 
might have no repose for his wickedness. His body, how- 
ever, underwent the usual rite, and he was placed in the 
Augustan tomb. 

Another iniquitous tyrant entered these precincts in the 
person of Caracalla. He was the son of Germanicus. The 
most charitable supposition is that a severe illness had left 
him no longer responsible for his actions and behaviour. 
Nothing was too enormous for him to perpetrate. Once 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



117 



during a fight of wild beasts, when there were no more 
criminals to be sacrificed, he ordered people taken at random 
from amongst the spectators, first to have their tongues cut 
out, and then to be cast into the arena. He had persons 
tortured for his amusement during meals. At a horse-race, 
when the people were disposed to favour a competitor more 
than himself, he is said to have wished that they had all 
one head, that he might strike it off at a blow. He threw 
money mixed with iron spikes amongst the populace, by 
means of which many were wounded, and some killed. He 
was continually impersonating some fanciful character ; 
sometimes appearing as Hercules, Juno, Diana, Venus, 
Bacchus or Neptune, as suited the madness of the moment. 
But perhaps his crowning folly and insolence was that of 
building a temple to himself, and furnishing it with his own 
image. At last one of his servants named Chaerea put an 
end to his miserable life, after he had reigned nearly four 
years, in the forty-first year of the Christian era. 

Next came the weak and characterless emperor. Claudius, 
who nevertheless left some great works behind him. The 
aqueduct built in his reign still strides in broken but ma- 
jestic arches across the Campagna of Rome, and traces of 
his harbour at Ostia are still visible. 

Many others helped to fill the walls of this huge sepulchre. 
The last placed within it was Nerva. He was emperor 
towards the end of the first Christian century. Dion 
Cassius gives some fine characteristics of him. On as- 
suming the government he took an oath never to put a 
senator to death, and kept it, even to those who had con- 
spired against his life. When the conspiracy of Calpurnius 
Crassus came to his ears, he sent some well-sharpened 
daggers to be placed near him, at the public shows, that he 
might see he had no fear of him. The captain of his guard 
made an insurrection amongst those under his command in 
order to have certain persons put to death. Nerva offered 
his own head ; but would not comply with their demand. 
Seeing that his age — he was sixty-five — decreased the 



n8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



respect due to his function as emperor, he ascended the 
Capitol, proclaiming that, for the good of the empire, he 
appointed Trajan his successor. He reigned somewhat 
more than four years. At his death he was carried to the 
pile on the shoulders of senators in the same manner as 
Augustus had been. 

From the time of Nerva the mausoleum remained closed 
until it was violated by Alaric at the Gothic invasion, in 
the hopes of finding a treasure there. In the thirteenth 
century it became a fortress of the Colonna family during 
the civil factions by which Rome was torn at that time. 
The whole internal portion of it was subsequently destroyed 
by the people, with the exception of some narrow chambers 
which still remain ; one of them is supposed to belong to a 
corridor leading to the central hall where the ashes of 
Augustus were placed. There are also still evidences of 
abutting halls on the ground-floor. 

One more episode in its history should not be forgotten. 
It is the last tragical act in the career of the spirited 
reformer Rienzo. After he had been slain and his headless 
corpse dragged about the streets and then hung from a 
balcony for two days and a night, pelted with stones and 
receiving every kind of indignity, it was taken down and 
dragged to this tomb, where the magistrates assembled t 
and a great concourse of people. Here it was placed 
on a huge pile which was set on fire. His corpulence 
of person, says his biographer, caused him to burn very 
readily, so that he was soon entirely consumed. Thus 
perished the great champion of liberty and justice, sacrificed 
by the ignorance and the cruelty of the people whom he had 
attempted to serve, who could make no allowance in the 
splendour of the hero for the imperfections and weaknesses 
of the man. 

After the mausoleum had been abandoned by the Colonna, 
it became successively a fortress, a garden, and a theatre. 
It is used in the latter capacity still. On its summit a 
stage is constructed at one side ; stone seats pass round the 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



119 



arena, the central space being filled with fashionable crowds 
on the summer afternoons who assemble to witness the open 
air performance of Alfieri or Goldoni, or to laugh at the last 
new farce imported from the French. Sometimes it is used 
as an amphitheatre for equestrian performances. What a 
moral does it furnish ! Yet how few of the spectators on 
such occasions bestow so much as a thought on the puissant 
dust which once reposed beneath and perhaps still moulders 
into nothingness amongst the broken ruins ! As I have sat 
here sometimes in the warm summer evening when the 
sunlight has died on the walls, and the first stars begun to 
look forth from the transparent sky, it has seemed as if the 
spirits of the old heroes have crept once more from their 
hiding places. I have seen the imperial Augustus gather 
up his robes in the senate, and the youthful Marcellus 
appear — still living in his noble epitaph. I have seen the 
dignified and matronly Agrippina standing before me in 
all the commanding grace of womanhood. Britannicus, the 
innocent victim of the heartless Nero, has looked upon me 
with mournful eyes ; and Tiberius with his sinister gestures 
and cold tones filled me with a creeping horror. Caligula, 
Antonia, Claudius, Nerva, have all appeared before me, 
whilst the mimic stage and its counterfeit actors, together 
with the whole audience, have vanished, giving place to a 
mightier drama with the races of all time as the wondering 
spectators. 

Leaving the ancient mausoleum, and passing between 
open banks, we approach the confines of the city. Over 
the meadows to the left the vast range of the Vatican is 
exposed in all its length, flanked at one end by the facade 
and dome of St. Peter's, perhaps the most imposing of all 
the views obtained of it. 

In order to take our farewell of the city, I will ask my 
readers to accompany me for an evening stroll to the top 
of the neighbouring Pincian hill, the last we see of Rome 
on this side of it. Crossing the Piazza del Popolo we climb 
by steps and shady walks to its lofty summit. The sweet 



120 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 



spring has filled the gardens with flowers. Already the 
white almond blossoms have fallen, but the billowy acacias 
of the Villa Borghese are crested with odorous wreaths of 
snowy foam. Fountains toss up their crystal columns from 
basins of marble or artificial rock-work, murmuring plea- 
santly. The sun, not far from his setting, pours a golden 
flood of light over temple and turret and house-top. Below 
lies the Piazza del Popolo, marked by all varieties of cha- 
racter and calling ; now we see a number of ecclesiastical 
students in long dark skirts, walking in couples, then a file 
of soldiers ; there a group of countrymen with shaggy goat- 
skins covering their thighs, reminding one of the fabled 
satyrs of old, carry large cakes of bread slung on a cord 
over their shoulders ; there a wine-cart goes with its jingling 
bells and tent like covering for the driver, by whose side a 
little dog barks vociferously ; now a woman lingers by the 
central fountain, leaning on an elegantly-shaped copper 
pitcher, and now a sombre procession of monks passes by, 
each bearing a lighted candle, and chanting the mournful 
office for the dead. 

In the meantime the sun has set. The gay crowds of 
fashion and pleasure have departed. The city lies steeped 
in sober grey. Beyond the roofs of the houses and the 
hidden river a long plain sweeps to the foot of the Vatican 
and the mighty dome of St. Peter's, which stands in aerial 
tones against the skirts of the passing day, supported by 
the serrated line of the Janiculum on the one side, and the 
plumed heights of Monte Mario on the other. The golden 
light has faded ; only a deep glow of orange fills the 
horizon. The sky at the zenith begins to assume a deep 
purple. The crescent moon increases in distinctness : and 
now begins the solemn pageantry of the night. The air 
seems to grow in clearness. Glassy abysses are opened, 
depth beyond depth, until it would seem that the very 
empyrean must become visible. A few curling clouds lie 
loosely about the horizon. The evening star burns brightly 
above it. Dimness creeps amongst the trees. The flutter- 



Chap. V. 



ROME. 



121 



ing bat flits hither and thither as if uncertain of his course. 
The owl beats the air, giving forth his solitary cry. The 
nightingale begins to sing with a low whisper, growing 
louder and louder until the thickets overflow with song. 
The beetle booms by with a surly hum ; night moths 
flutter ; flowers close ; stars awake one by one till the 
whole heavens are robed in sparkling glory. Lights begin 
to sprinkle the streets and houses. Hark ! that was the 
first stroke of the hour of Ave Maria. For a few moments 
the air seems alive with the sound of bells : then all is still. 
Moment by moment the heavens grow more tenderly 
beautiful. The rose of day has turned into the lily of night ; 
who shall say which is the fairest ? 




THE PINCIO, FROM THE VILLA BORGHESE. 



(122) 



Chap. VI. 



CHAPTER VI. 

FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 

BEFORE leaving Rome I should like to take my reader 
farther into it. I should like to go with him through 
its various sculpture and picture galleries. I should like to 
survey its ancient ruins, quaint gardens and old world 
nooks in his company. I should like to 4ead him away 
from the tide of tourists and casual visitors into the delight- 
ful semi-bohemian artist life of some of its more permanent 
residents : 

A world of beauty 
Where love moves ever hand in hand with duty; 
And life, a long aspiring pilgrimage, 
Makes labour but a pastime of delight.* 

But this the limits of my prescribed course forbid. We 
must leave its dear old walls for " fresh fields and pastures 

new." 

I was once more indebted to Mr. Welby for the oppor- 
tunity of exploring the navigable portion of the Tiber above 
Rome. One of his steamers leaves the Ripetta (the smaller 
quay at the northern end of the city) periodically for the 
purpose of towing up the charcoal and other barges, which, 
when laden, return with the stream. He was kind enough 
not only to permit Mr. Hemans and myself to make use of 
his steamer, but took pains to have accommodation specially 
prepared for us, as we should have to spend a night on board ; 
so that when we went early one brilliant morning with rugs, 

* ' My Beautiful Lady,' by T. Woolner. 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^E. 



123 



wine, provisions, etc., expecting nothing more than a bed of 
boards to lie upon, with no particular convenience of any 
sort, we were agreeably surprised to find a commodious and 
comfortable cabin at our disposal, with seats and sofas in 
it. The proposed voyage only extended to a distance of 
about thirty-five miles, but as this would take the whole of 
the day, heading the stream and towing a number of large 
hulks in our wake, on reaching the highest point attainable 
the vessel had to be moored for the night, dropping down 
to Rome again the next morning. In describing the various 
points and places of interest which the Tiber passes I shall 
take them in this upward journey ; but the reader must be 
aware that they were each made the object of a special 
journey (some more than one) from Rome. 

Of course there was the usual number of grown men with 
a good sprinkling of young fry on board the vessel, who, if 
they did no more, enjoyed the trip very much, to judge by 
their gambols alternating with long dozes in shady corners, 
besides contributing to keep up the spirits of the ship's 
company by a continual flow of merriment and good- 
humour. Our departure was a very animated one. The 
sun shone brilliantly ; the river sparkled as if smiling beneath 
the prow of the vessel ; the old river had put off every for- 
bidding scowl, and looked pleasantly under the blue sky. 

No sooner is the boundary wall of the city passed than 
the houses at once cease to occupy the banks, which are left 
to grazing sheep and the little birds that sing amongst the 
bushes. There is, however, a siagle villa on the left, said to 
have been once inhabited by Claude the landscape painter. 
Nowhere are the sunsets seen to finer effect. He may well 
have watched them here until they suffused his soul with 
their glory, and then flung them on to his canvas with the 
glow of an inspiration. 

Just opposite to this place, on the other side of the river, 
with the old Via Flaminia running between, is Monte 
Parioli, a tufa-formed elevation, nowise famous or notable 
excepting for a certain picturesqueness which it bears. 



124 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI- 



About a mile from Rome Monte Mario is reached, which 
may be considered the most northerly abutment of the 
Janiculan range. Its sides are varied by alternate sterility 
and culture ; upon its top are gardens, groves of cypresses, 
two or three villas, and one tall expansive stone-pine, which 
is a beacon to the country round. The views of the river 
as seen from its sides and summit, in its numerous windings 
along the Campagna, are very charming. Here resided 
Julius Martialis, the friend of the Latin epigrammatist 
Martial, the latter of whom has left us one of the most 
charming descriptions in literature of the view obtained 
from its summit. It is as follows : 

" On the long ridge of the Janiculan hill lie the few acres 
belonging to Julius Martialis; land more blest than the 
gardens of the Hesperides. Secluded retreats are spread over 
the hills ; and the smooth summit, with gentle undulations, 
enjoys a cloudless sky, and while a mist covers the hollow 
valley, shines conspicuous in a light all its own. The grace- 
ful turrets of a lofty villa rise gently towards the stars. 
Hence you may see the seven hills, rulers of the world, and 
contemplate the whole extent of Rome, as well as the 
heights of Alba and Tusculum, and every cool retreat that 
lies in the suburbs, with old Fidenae and little Rubra, and 
the fruit-bearing grove of Anna Perenna, which delights in 
virgin's blood. There may be seen the traveller on the 
Flaminian and Salarian roads, while his carriage is unheard, 
so that its wheels are no interruption to gentle sleep : 
neither is it broken by the cry of the boatswain, or the 
noise of hawsers, although the Mulvian bridge is near, and 
ships are seen gliding swiftly along the sacred Tiber. This 
country box, but which ought rather to be called mansion, 
is rendered additionally agreeable by the welcome of its 
owner ; you would imagine it to be your own ; so ungrudg- 
ingly, so liberally is it thrown open to you, and with such 
refined hospitality. You would deem it the pious abode of 
Alcinous, or of Molorchus recently made rich. You, now, 
who think all these attractions insignificant, cultivate with 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 



125 



a hundred spades cool Tivoli or Praeneste, and give the 
slopes of Setia to one single husbandman ; whilst I, for my 
part, prefer to all your possessions the few acres of Julius 
Martialis."* 

This hill used to be called the Clivus Cinnse. Dante 
alludes to it by the name of Montemalo. It was changed 
to Mario, after Mario Mellini, to whom it belonged in the 
latter part of the sixteenth century. It is interesting to 
geologists in that it contains quantities of marine shells of 
the pliocene period ; the beds in which these are found 
are superimposed volcanic strata. 

Descending the slopes towards the Ponte Molle is the 
Villa Madama, a somewhat desolate-looking tenement, 
which takes its name from Margaret of Austria, natural 
daughter of Charles the Fifth, who married into the Medici 
family, for one of whom it was built. It is decorated with 
frescoes by Giulio Romano and Giovanni da Udine. 

The plain beneath is used as a military exercising ground. 
It was here that the magnanimous and noble-minded 
Arnoldo da Brescia was made the martyr to a wider sense 
of freedom and a larger disinterestedness than his age could 
understand or appreciate. He suffered by fire. His ashes, 
thrown into the Tiber, have long sown themselves on other 
shores, bringing forth abundant increase. Let the reader, 
if he will, turn to the life and death of this splendid hero ; 
but here we will rather choose to draw the veil before a 
painful and disgraceful tragedy, too sickening in its details 
for our summer's holiday. 

It is supposed that the temple of Anna Perenna must 
have stood near here, whose festival is so graphically 
described by Ovid. 

" On the Ides " of March, he says, " is the mirthful festival 

* Juli jugera pauca Martialis, 
Hortis Hesperidum beatiora, 
Lungo Janiculi jugo recumbunt, &c. 

Ep. iv. 64. 

Translation in Bohn's Library. 



126 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



of Anna Perenna, not far from thy banks, thou Tiber that 
flowest from afar. The common people assemble and 
carouse, scattered in every quarter on the green grass ; each 
with his sweetheart is there reclining. Some spend their time 
in the open air, some pitch their tents ; by some a leafy bower 
is formed of branches. Some when they have fixed up reeds 
there in the stead of solid columns, place over them gar- 
ments spread out. Yet with the sun and wine do they wax 
warm ; they pray for years as many in number as the cups 
they quaff, and reckon on as they drink. There you will 
meet with the man who can drink off the years of Nestor ; 
the woman who becomes as old as the Sybil by the number 
of her cups. There, too, they sing whatever snatches they 
have picked up at the theatres and move their pliant arms in 
time to their words. And now having laid aside the bowl, 
they trip the uncouth dance, and many a gaily-dressed 
wench skips about with her locks flowing. When they 
return, they stagger and are a gazing sight for the mob, and 
the multitude that meets them pronounces them to be 
glorious souls. I myself met them lately ; the procession 
seemed to me one that was worthy to be mentioned again. 
A drunken old hag was dragging after her a drunken old 
man."* 

Here the ancient Pons Milvia (now Ponte Molle) crosses 
the river. A part of it dates from the beginning of the 
second century ; though it has suffered many reverses since 
that time. The ambassadors of the Allobroges who were 
concerned in the Cataline conspiracy were here arrested by 
the order of Cicero. It was the scene of some of the wild 
nocturnal orgies of Nero mentioned by Tacitus ; and it 
was from its parapet that the emperor Maxentius lost his 
life when fleeing from the battle of the Saxa Rubra. 
Modern architecture has not done much to improve it as 
far as appearance goes. It is disfigured by an unsightly 
tower built at one end of it, and some very bad statuary. 

After passing Ponte Molle the Campagna is fairly entered 
* Fas. iii. 523. 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENjF. 



127 



upon — that vast tract of almost desert ground that stretches 
for twenty miles on every side of Rome. Beautiful as it is 
in the morning hours, when the thin mist lingers in its hol- 
low places and the lark pours forth his rapid notes in the 
air, it is, perhaps, still more impressive clothed in the sombre 
hues of the late evening, when the golden sunshine has died 
from the broken masonry which here and there rises from its 
sod, and the great mounds loom out and stretch from valley 
to valley like huge hillocks piled upon the graves of buried 
giants, and the grey ruins stand like tombstones to mark 
the places where they lie. It is then that the voices of the 
past speak loudest from its interminable undulations, and 
the solitude becomes peopled with the shadowy .forms of 
those who once turned its desolate bluffs and headlands 
into the seats of human industry, interest and ambition. 

As the vessel slowly toiled up the stream I noticed par- 
ticularly what I had often observed before, that there was a 
subtlety and peculiarity in the surface colour of the waters 
of the Tiber which I never saw on any other stream. The 
blue of the sky reflected in the tawny hue of the eddying 
water gives an indefinite shimmer, so subtle and delicate, 
and so difficult to analyse, as almost to defy the skill of the 
artist in its reproduction. Perhaps this is the reason why 
one sees it so seldom painted well, or even at all.* To-day 
it was particularly elusive, tender and bright, as it twirled 
itself into tiny eddies running into each other with a thou- 
sand sparkling dimples, and coursing each other down stream 
as if in playful rejoicing at the fair morning and the clear 
sunshine which pervaded the world from earth to sky. The 
gossamer spider, nothing daunted, crossed the stream on his 
frail support, and the butterfly flitted from one bank to the 
other, whilst numerous birds enlivened our way with various 
songs ; the thrush, the nightingale, and, above our heads, 
the soaring lark. 

After passing some foliage-covered cliffs on the right 

* Mr. J. C. Moore, in some of his water-colour drawings, appears to 
me to have given some of the most satisfactory renderings of it. 



128 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



and a picturesque round tower on the left, a bend of the 
river brings us to Acqua Cetosa, some famous mineral 
springs which have been in use since the times of the 
ancient Romans ; and immediately afterwards to a long, 
elevated mound with a level summit, sloping upwards from 
green pasture-grounds. Although there is not a vestige 
of ruin upon it, yet a little observation renders it apparent 
that its form has been modified by artificial means. It was 
here that the ancient Sabine city, " towered Antemnae," once 
stood, sung by Virgil, and stated by old historians to have 
been no inconsiderable rival of early Rome. Its site is 
unmistakably identified by ancient descriptions, which give 
it as lying exactly between the junction of the Anio with 
the Tiber. 

It was from this city, together with those of Caenina 
and Crustumerium, that Rome was partly populated, for 
Romulus, finding his newly-founded colony to consist of 
little more than a band of warriors, sent embassies to the 
neighbouring Sabine cities with proposals for intermarriage, 
which were one and all refused. Upon this Romulus, 
smothering his indignation, invited the Sabines from these 
towns to witness some athletic games in Rome. They 
came, bringing with them their wives and daughters. They 
were hospitably entertained by the Romans, who, at the 
same time, took care to show them all their advantages 
of position, together with the fortresses they had built. 
Whilst the spectacle was going forward, by a preconcerted 
plan, a number of armed Roman youths rushed forwards, 
and seizing as many of the younger women as they 
could, carried them off by force. In vain the Antemnates 
inveighed against this inhospitable outrage, calling upon 
their gods for vengeance. Whilst the Sabines put on 
mourning and tried to rouse the neighbouring states to 
revenge, Romulus endeavoured to excuse his conduct, and 
appealed to the women taken, who soon began to form 
home ties and attachments to their husbands which they 
were not desirous of severing. At last, after numerous 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENjE. 



129 



skirmishes, Romulus overtook their army on a foraging 
excursion, completely routed them, and gained possession of 
their city. At the entreaty of Hersilia his spouse, who had 
been one of the previously captured women, he spared 
them on condition that Antemnae should become a colony 
of Rome : such of the inhabitants as chose to leave it 
being allowed to do so, and to reside in Rome with the 
privilege of citizenship, their lands and possessions being 
retained to them. Dionysius says that three thousand 
men with their wives and families availed themselves of 
these conditions. The same historian gives a line descrip- 
tion of the Triumph of the conqueror on this occasion, who 
followed the procession of spoils and booty, clad in a purple 
robe and crowned with laurel, in a chariot drawn by four 
horses, his army following, infantry and cavalry ranged in 
their several divisions, singing hymns to the gods and 
celebrating their General in extemporary verses. They 
were met by all the inhabitants of the city, who caressed 
and praised them : and on entering they found tables 
spread with viands and bowls of wine, so that each might 
eat and drink what he chose. This was the first Triumph 
of all her many magnificent ones that Rome ever saw. 

The summit of this table-land commands fine views of 
the Campagna on all sides. There are still traces of the 
ancient roads which must have led to the gate of the city. 
Archaeologists differ as to the position which the arx or 
citadel may have occupied. The angle at the junction of 
the rivers is perhaps the strongest point, but there is a 
higher elevation at the other side. Strabo mentions it with 
some others as having become an insignificant village. 
There is not so much as a stone of the ancient city left. 
Probably everything serving as building material may have 
been long since carried away to Rome. 

In the time of Tarquin the combined Sabines and Etrus- 
cans encamped at the confluence of the rivers, throwing 
a wooden bridge across the Tiber. Tarquin, by means of 
boats filled with burning combustibles sent down the Anio, 

K 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



destroyed the bridge, thus being able to attack the dis- 
jointed armies severally. The Gauls encamped here ; 
perhaps, also, Hannibal when he approached the Porta 
Collina. We are informed that Antemnae was so called 
because it was " ante amnem posita," situated on the river. 

Not to diverge too far from the main course of our 
journey, I shall here ask my readers to leave the Tiber 
for a little while to take a cursory view of the Anio, which 
at this spot empties itself into the larger stream. It is 
marked by a little island, round which the clear cool waters 
flow almost hidden in the thick bushes which clothe its 
banks. 

Following its course a little way upwards, beyond the 
hill of Antemnae is the Ponte Salaro, the ancient Pons 
Salarus, the tufa piers of which are probably of the earliest 
period of Roman construction — must, indeed, be coeval with 
the Via Salara which crosses it. Upon these piers the 
bridge was subsequently rebuilt by Narses, after having 
been partly destroyed by the Gauls in the sixth century. 
The more ancient structure was the site of a memorable 
event in Roman history, before narrating which it is neces- 
sary to go back a little. 

By one of the oldest laws of primitive Rome it was 
decreed that on the ides of September a nail should be 
annually driven by the supreme officer of the city into a 
certain part of the temple of Jupiter : a custom probably 
arising before the use of writing became general, for the 
purpose of marking the lapse of time. So important was 
this ceremony considered in after-times that a dictator 
was elected for the special purpose of fulfilling it. To this 
function one Lucius Manlius was appointed, in the year of 
Rome three hundred and ninety-two, who, extending the 
privileges of the office, sought to intermeddle with more 
weighty matters of state, assuming the generalship of the 
army, and enforcing large levies from the youth of the city 
with the greatest cruelty and severity. Of a violent temper 
and inordinate ambition, he took the name of Imperiosus, 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENJE. 131 



and went so far as to banish his own son from the city, 
who, though a youth of good solid power, had not the gift 
of oratory — who was, in fact, a man of deeds not words, 
as will presently appear. For this sole crime his father 
condemned him to follow a life of rustic labour, blunting by 
his brutality whatever fine feelings the youth might have 
possessed. That he was gifted richly enough in this respect 
the following circumstance will show. For his misuse of 
power and unnatural conduct towards his son, Manlius, 
after having first provoked the people until a threatened 
insurrection compelled him to lay down the dictatorship 
before the proper term had expired, was arraigned before 
the senate amidst much popular indignation by the tribune 
of the commons, Marcus Pomponius. When this came to 
the ears of Titus the son of Manlius, furnishing himself with 
a knife, he went to the house of the tribune, and professing 
to have business of importance with him, was announced 
into his presence and all others bidden to withdraw. Ap- 
proaching the couch on which Pomponius lay, he. held the 
knife over him and threatened to kill him on the spot if he 
did not at once solemnly swear to abandon the prosecution 
of his father, which he was accordingly obliged to do. 
When this circumstance became reported abroad, as it 
presently did, the accusation against his father was not 
only allowed to drop, but Titus himself elected a tribune of 
the soldiers without any other merit than his blunt, straight- 
forward bravery and powerful physique, an office which 
he fulfilled so well that he became afterwards dictator. 

Shortly after this the Gauls approached Rome, encamp- 
ing just on the other side of the Salarian bridge from the 
city, the Romans in a large army coming forth to meet 
them. Both sides strove to make themselves master of 
the bridge, and several skirmishes were fought without 
being decisive. At last a Gaul of gigantic frame and 
stature came forth and challenged the Romans to meet 
him in single combat with the best man they had in the 
army. For some time no one answered the challenge ; but 

K 2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



after a while Titus Manlius offered to fight the Gallic 
champion with the permission of the dictator. Being pro- 
perly accoutred and stepping on to the bridge, both armies 
stood by to watch the issue of the combat, the Gaul re- 
garding Titus with the greatest contempt. After receiving 
a tremendous blow on his armour from the sword of the 
Gaul, Titus immediately closed with him, and after a short 
struggle pierced him several times in the lower part of his 
body, so that he died. When he was dead Titus did not 
despoil or otherwise maltreat the corpse of his fallen foe, 
as was usual, but simply removed from his neck a tore, or 
ornament of twisted gold, which he fixed about his own ; 
from which circumstance he subsequently obtained the 
name of Torquatus, which remained as the surname of his 
family always afterwards. So decisive was the death of 
their leader considered, that the Gallic army decamped 
hastily the same night, leaving the Romans to return un- 
molested to the city. 

Somewhat farther up the stream is the Ponte Nomentano, 
built by Narses to replace a more ancient one built by 
Totila. It is covered with a picturesque castellated struc- 
ture added in the eighth century, and subsequently modi- 
fied. Near this bridge are the ruins of two large tombs of 
unknown origin, and a little beyond a large mound or hill, 
a spot particularly pointed out by Livy as the Mons Sacer, 
or Sacred Hill of the ancient Romans, which obtained its 
name in a memorable manner. 

After the expulsion of the Tarquins from Rome the 
condition of the people under the nobles became an op- 
pressed and suffering one. Compelled to borrow money 
from the patricians in order to till their land and prosecute 
their business, after the drain on their purses and loss of 
time caused by the subsequent wars, they were treated with 
the utmost rigour and harshness in case of failure to meet 
their engagements from whatever cause — so severely, in- 
deed, as not only to be frequently cast into prison on the 
hard fare of bread and water, but also they were liable to 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 



133 



be sold into slavery, or even to lose their lives ; or, if there 
were several creditors, the body of the debtor might be 
hewn into pieces and distributed amongst them. 

One day there appeared in the Forum an emaciated old 
man of squalid appearance, torn with stripes, clothed in 
rags and laden with chains. He lifted up his manacled 
hands and told the people the sad story of his woes. He 
told them how the enemy had destroyed his house and 
robbed him of his property, how he had been compelled 
to borrow money of one of the patricians, how misfortune 
had prevented him from repaying it, and how he had been 
cast into prison, scourged and laden with those chains. 
The appeal was an irresistible one; menacing • murmurs 
arose amongst the people, the low thunders of a coming 
storm, and shortly afterwards, when Rome was invaded 
by the Volscian foe, the people in answer to the levy pro- 
claimed by the consuls, one and all refused to be enrolled 
unless there was a suspension and alteration of the hard laws 
between debtor and creditor. On promises being made 
the people were induced to serve ; but no sooner were the 
wars over than the promises were forgotten, matters remain- 
ing as they were before. Precisely the same thing took 
place again shortly afterwards, similar promises being made 
and as little regarded : but this time the issue was more 
decided. Whilst still under arms the people elected Junius 
Brutus and Sicinius Bellutus as their leaders and marched 
off to this hill, determined to set up a rival colony of their 
own away from the ancient city. In vain they were be- 
sought to return ; the people, already too much deceived, 
would listen to no proposals. It was in this state of matters 
that an old man named Menenius addressed the people 
with the fable of the Belly and the Members. " It hap- 
pened," he said, " in ancient times when each part of the 
body was endowed with language and a will of its own, 
that the various members of the body rebelled against 
the condition of the belly, which they said did no service 
for the commonwealth, but, having its needs all supplied, 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



was borne about and attended by the members without 
rendering any benefit in return. Accordingly they con- 
spired against it : the hands that they would not feed it, 
the mouth that it would not receive its food, and the iegs 
that they would not bear it. Whilst thus attempting to 
subdue the body, however, it was found that there was no 
part of the state which did not suffer in consequence — 'that 
the whole system, in fact, was reduced to emaciation and 
sickness. It was thus found that the belly was by no means 
useless ; and only on the members returning to their several 
functions was the commonwealth restored to health and 
happiness." Impressed with this fable, the application of 
which to their own circumstances was obvious, at last they 
agreed to return to Rome on obtaining certain terms ; as 
that the debtors who could not pay should have their debts 
cancelled, that those who had been enslaved on account of 
their debts should be set at liberty, and that two of their 
own body should be appointed to watch over their interests. 

On the spot where this treaty was made an altar was 
built to Jupiter, the Causer and Banisher of Fear ; since 
the plebeians had retired thither in fear and returned in 
safety. The place was called Mons Sacer, or the Sacred 
Hill for ever afterwards, and the laws by which the people's 
tribunate was secured were called Leges Sacratae, the 
Sacred Laws, which might be said to constitute the Magna 
Charta of Rome. 

Following the course of the stream still onwards is 
Cerbara, where there are immense tufa-quarries cut under- 
ground. These quarries are spoken of by Strabo. The 
stone has been cut out, forming large chambers and halls, 
square columns having been left here and there to support 
the roof, with apertures at intervals to admit the light. 
The creeping plants which hang through these apertures, 
the long ranges of columns, the irregular distribution of the 
chambers, and the mysterious gloom with which they are 
pervaded, produce a singularly solemn and picturesque 
effect Their very stillness summons to the eye of fancy 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDEN^E. 



135 



hundreds of busy workmen occupied in removing- the stone 
— slaves under the cruel lash of the overseer falling- at their 
toil ; the noise, the bustle, the activity, both within and 
without, as the distant aqueduct crawls slowly, arch by 
arch, to its destination, or the temple or palace grows up 
day by day within the walls of the city. Not very distant 
from the river on the right is the site of the classic city 
of Collatia, an ancient Alban colony founded by Latinus 
Silvius, where the virtuous Lucretia lived, and the tragical 
occurrence took place which drove the Tarquins from 
Rome and resulted in the establishment of a republic. 
A little more removed from the river in the same direction 
is the place where the ancient Volscian city Gabii stood, 
the school of Romulus and Remus. Remains of the 
temple of Juno mentioned by Virgil are still to be seen. 
The lake was drained off some years ago. Farther on, a 
somewhat turbid stream of a strong odour pours its waters 
into the river. This flows from some sulphur springs 
situated about a mile to the north of the stream. They 
were the ancient Aquae Albulae, and are frequently men- 
tioned by classical writers. They now consist for the most 
part of shallow pools overgrown with reeds and rushes 
encrusted by petrifactions. Some grey and broken walls 
still stand, which once formed baths for the use of the 
waters. They were frequented by Augustus and enlarged 
by Zenobia. It was to this place that Virgil makes King 
Latinus go in order to consult the oracle of Faunus, which 
once stood here, concerning some prodigies which had oc- 
curred foretelling the coming of ^Eneas. " These prodigies," 
says Virgil, "disturbed the king, and so he goes to the 
oracle of Faunus, his prophetic sire, and consults the 
groves beneath high Albunea ; which is the greatest of 
woods, resounding with the murmur of its holy fountain, 
and breathing forth from its dark shade a strong mephitic 
exhalation." The grove from which " the nations of Italy 
and all the land of CEnotria looked for responses when in 
perplexity " is now no more to be seen : only the broken 



136 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



ruin, the bubbling water springs, the wide Campagna and 
olive-covered mountains. Still, however, these waters are 
in use, and are considered to have valuable medicinal 
properties. Sir Humphry Davy found the waters to 
register a temperature of eighty degrees Fahrenheit ; but 
I believe it is now nearly ten degrees lower. The water is 
surcharged with carbonic acid gas and contains sul- 
phuretted hydrogen. It is dangerous to bathe too near 
the springs on a still morning, when the vapours rest upon 
the surface. During a summer which I once spent with 
some friends at Tivoli, we often used to go for a bath, and 
found the waters highly refreshing and renovating. Here 
we met cardinals from Rome, and other persons who had 
driven twelve miles across the dusty Campagna for the 
purpose of making use of the waters. The baths were 
nothing but a few wooden sheds temporarily fixed. As in 
the old Roman days, sometimes the gossip of the day was 
talked over, archaeological and other discussions following, 
in which we all freely joined, taking advantage of the frank 
Italian courtesy. But oh, the hot drive along the plain 
under the mountains on our return, when the sun had well 
risen ! No words can describe the oven-like heat as we 
crawled up the steep Sabine slopes to the more airy 
heights upon which stands the temple of Tivoli, glad to 
hide ourselves at noon in the friendly shelter of our little 
inn. 

Farther on to the right are the wonderful ruins of the Villa 
of Hadrian. It stands at the foot of the Sabine moun- 
tains. Its extent seems perfectly interminable. Some 
antiquaries consider it to have occupied a space several 
miles in circumference. In addition to its palatial halls, it 
embraced theatres, baths, temples, barracks, and vast ex- 
tents of pleasure ground. Some of the most beautiful of 
ancient marbles were found amongst its ruins, probably 
including that of the celebrated Venus de' Medici. Its 
enormous walls, many of them left in good preservation, its 
forlorn appearance, its growth of rank vegetation, the 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENAl. 



137 



numerous large cypresses which have grown about it, its 
general look of desertion — so much grandeur, so much 
magnificence, made the prey of decay and oblivion — make 
it one of the most touching and impressive mementoes of 
ancient times. 

Following the hurrying stream through many a fairily- 
fringed vale, by many a mossy bank and glimmering nook 
of hazel and fern, through groves of olive and spreading 
vineyards, we at last reach the abrupt heights from which 
it falls, surmounted by the quaint and picturesque town of 
Tivoli. 

Tivoli (called by Ovid, Tiburis udi, watery Tivoli), as 
every one knows who has visited the classic lands of Italy, 
was the ancient Tibur, the favourite retreat of the Romans 
during the hot weather. Hither Augustus retired from the 
toils of state, here Horace wrote some of his best verses, 
Catullus and Propertius sung its praises, the wealthy 
Mecsenas had his seat, and many noble and illustrious 
Romans their villas or summer residences here. According 
to Dionysius the primitive town was founded by the Siculi, 
and was called Catilium after a hero of the times of 
Evander. " You can plant no tree," says Horace to his 
friend Varus, "preferable to the sacred vine about the 
genial soil of Tibur and walls of Catilium."* It is first 
noticed in history as being the place to which Marcus 
Claudius, claimant, as the instrument of Appius, of the 
unfortunate Virginia, was banished. It was subsequently 
implicated in the Gallic invasion of Rome ; and after the 
defeat of the Gauls at the Porta Collina they fled into 
Tibur for refuge. The Tiburtines afterwards joined the 
Latin League against the Romans ; but were finally sub- 
dued by the- consul Lucius Furius Camillus in the year 
three hundred and thirty-five before Christ. They were, 
however, denied the privileges of Roman citizenship, for 
having taken part against Rome with the Gauls. 

* Nullam, Vare, sacra vite priiis severis arborem, 

Circa mite solum Tiburis et mcenia Catili. O. I. 18. 



138 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



An amusing story is told by Livy and Ovid in con- 
nection with Tibur, which happened in the year three 
hundred and ten before Christ. The Pipers, who con- 
stituted a considerable and important body at Rome, 
whose services were deemed requisites every ceremonial 
and festival as well as at celebrations of religious worship, 
being curtailed, both in number and in their traditional 
privileges, by the aedile of that time, went over in a body 
to Tibur. In vain they were entreated to return, until a 
certain freedman made them a great feast at his farm in 
the country, taking care that they should eat and drink 
abundantly. At night closed carts were provided, in order, 
as they thought, to take them home. Instead of this, they 
were driven to Rome, and on awakening in the morning 
found themselves in the Forum. In order to avoid the 
ridicule of the people, they caused themselves to be dis- 
guised in white garments ; a dress which they retained 
always afterwards, their privileges being re-established. 

Tibur was famous for the worship of Hercules. Nibby 
believes the vast structure now in ruins, known by the 
name of the Villa of Mecsenas, to have been a temple of 
that god. Syphax, the king of Numidia, after being 
captured by Scipio at the battle of Massinissa, died here. 
Here, too, Zenobia, the queen of the East, who united some 
of the finest qualities of the general and the scholar, after 
her lone and valiant resistance to the arms of Aurelian, 
ended her days. Strabo says that the Anio was at one 
time navigable from Tivoli to the Tiber. It is so no 
loneer, I believe, even for small boats. 

There are still remains of ancient villas left near the bed 

of the Anio, where some mosaic floors and broken walls 

have been discovered. It is not now considered the 

healthiest of localities, owing to its dampness and sudden 

changes of the weather, as embodied in the modern rhyme: 

Tivoli di mal confer to, 

O piove, O tira vento, O suona amorto. 

(Tivoli of ill comfort — for it either rains, or the wind blows, 



Ch.\p. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 



139 



or the death-bell sounds). It must have obtained this 
character pretty early ; for it is thus mentioned in one of 
the epigrams of Martial : " Let us in the summer solstice," 
he says, " retire to Ardea and the country about Paestum, 
and to the tract which burns under the Cleonaean con- 
stellation ; since Curiatius has condemned the air of Tivoli, 
carried off as he was to the Styx notwithstanding its much- 
lauded waters. From no place can you shut out fate : 
when death comes, Sardinia is in the midst of Tivoli 
itself."* 




TIVOLI. 



If I might be permitted here to indulge a moment's 
personal recollection, I would recur to many happy hours 

* Ardea solstitio, Castranaque rura petantur, 

Quique Cleonaeo sidere fervet ager; 
Cum Tiburtinas damnet Curiatius auras, 

Inter laudatus ad Styga missus aquas. 
Nullo fata loco possis excludere : cum mors 

Venerit, in medio Tibure Sardinia est. B. IV. ep. 60. 



Ho THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



spent in these delightful shades in the quiet occupation of 
my pencil, when the morning mist still lay like a thin veil 
on the Campagna, and the lark was loud in the sky, and 
shrill cicalas were vocal from many trees. No words can 
express the tenderness and sweetness of these delightful 
seasons. Through vistas of grey olives the vast plain of 
the Campagna was seen to stretch away, streaked with 
thread-like roads and dim lines of recurrent aqueducts, 
spotted with groves of trees and towered mediaeval for- 
tress-farms, with a little white dwelling here and there, 
and, perhaps, a trail of thin, blue smoke curling gradually 
into nothingness. Almost twenty miles away the dome of 
St. Peter's, clearly distinguishable in all its outline, though 
every other trace of Rome was lost in distance, stood like 
the sentinel of this beautiful land ; at the farthest horizon 
some faint, faint lines marking the region of far-off moun- 
tains. But if the distant prospect was lovely, not less so 
was that .immediately surrounding. A neighbouring foun- 
tain, at a turn of the road, which ran by, springing from a 
dim, cool grotto half buried in ferns and straggling trailers, 
gave refreshment to groups of picturesquely-dressed way- 
farers and their well-laden beasts of burden, the travellers 
themselves gossiping gaily or singing loudly, inspired with 
the delightful season. Beneath the trees a shepherd 
watched his flock, the sheep cropping the nutritious herbage 
with now and then a bleat of satisfaction, whilst a tinkling 
bell borne by one of them mixed its pleasant ringing with 
the rural voices that filled the air, and the gentle murmur 
of falling waters. In a deep ravine at the foot of these 
olive-slopes the Anio wound, half hidden in velvet sward 
and fringe-like foliage that bordered its course, beyond 
which rose terraced gardens and vineyards, crowned by the 
romantic buildings of Tivoli, with its frowning castle in 
the background, and the round columned temple of the 
Sibyl overhanging an abrupt cliff, which has furnished the 
subject of so many pictures. From this steep were poured 
down the waters of the " headlong Anio " in many a 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 



141 



whitened wreath, falling slowly, with silvery band on band, 
and then distributing themselves in airy clouds of dia- 
phanous vapour : whilst, above it all, a sky of amethyst 
blue formed a fitting dome to this gorgeous temple of 
Nature, every court and chamber of which was redolent 
with the odorous incense of the morning. 

I will detain the reader yet a little longer in this fairy- 
land of enchantment to take him into the quaint gardens 
of the Villa d'Este, that stands on one of those heights ; 
for assuredly he will be glad to linger a few moments 
within its guardian walls, with their grey old gateways 
grown with moss and lichen. It occupies a midway region 
between nature and art ; for here Nature, as if jealous of 
the interference of man where her own work is so beautiful, 
is quick to take back to herself anything of which he may 
once have had possession. One might imagine that the 
sylvan and the faun had not yet deserted its still ilex- 
shades and dilapidated grottos hung with long fronds of 
hartstongue and delicate maidenhair — that daintily-shaped 
dryads might still slip the bark, and flit stealthily between 
those ancient boles ; or the glittering naiad, abandoning the 
cool depths, sometimes sit sunning herself on the brink of 
one of those broken basins dribbling lazy jets of crystal 
water, wreathing her moist hair with flowers, and crooning 
old-fashioned songs in a soft undertone — nay, even if 
tawny-skinned, goat-footed old Pan, with his lofty eye- 
brows and shaggy flanks, should be found seated at the 
foot of some twisted root, piping a rustic melody, it would 
scarcely seem a matter of surprise ; so congenial with 
every old-world association does the spot appear. From 
crumbling terraces mighty cypresses, with split and wrinkled 
boles, shoot up thick pillars of gloom, abundant fountains 
tossing their silvery columns at their foot. Here the lizard 
sleeps all the day, or runs about nimbly in the sun. Tall 
dipt hedges enclose plots of rank grass and beds of 
rampant flowers ; roses reach forth their neglected sweets 
with straggling hands ; violets and lilies have offered their 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



lips in vain, and are now tired of blooming unnoticed and 
uncared for : only the throstle and the blackbird and the 
warbling nightingale enliven the solitude, glad to be alone 
in the sweet hours of morning and eventide. 

I might here tell how the beautiful Anio follows the 
intricate regions of the Sabine mountains, under the cliffs 
of the picturesque convent of St. Cosimato, through the 
open fields of Spiaggia, furnishing water supplies to roman- 
tically situated towns and villages perched on eyrie-like 
fastnesses of crag and rock ; how graceful and lovely 
maidens come down from these, bearing chastely -shaped 
water-vessels on their heads, whilst the older dames, with 
spool and distaff, stand spinning and gossiping together ; 
how the river winds and wanders until it reaches the 
wonderful little town of Subiaco, the ancient Sublaquem, 
with its quaint towered bridge, its crowning citadel, its 
narrow crowded streets, its rumbling mills, its sombre 
arched passages, its curious nooks and corners all dim and 
grey and fitted to the artist's pencil, with here and there a 
pious picture and glimmering lamp burning before it ; but 
it would lead us too far out of our way to do more than 
mention the pleasant regions of this romantic country, with 
its fresh scenes of beauty at every turn ; the olive-groves 
and vineyards, the wayside shrines garlanded with wreaths 
and decorated with flowers ; the wondrous church of 
St. Benedict built against the rock, where was the cave he 
once inhabited, within which the softened light falls be- 
tween descending arches upon the groups of saints and 
angels which adorn the spandrils ; these we must leave, 
and let the stream wander at will amongst the blue moun- 
tains from its source in the Abruzzi ; for our space does 
not permit us to linger too long in these secluded fast- 
nesses of Nature, where existence itself might well be lost 
to the outer world in a perpetual dream of beauty and self- 
contented indolence. 

As we again pursue our way along the Tiber from the 
point where the Anio falls into it, a wide plain extends 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN.E. 



U3 



itself on either hand, through which the river winds and 
wanders. This plain has been the scene of a hundred 
fights. Over and over again it has been deluged with 
blood in both ancient and modern times. Xo doubt many 
an unrecorded struggle has taken place upon it which the 
pages of history will never know. It is bounded on the 
left by a not very lofty but abrupt range of rocks called 
the Saxa Rubra, well sculptured by time, and tinted with 
many-coloured lichens. As we pass along the river, a 
hollow cave may be seen cut into the face of the escarpment 
which has a deep interest, in that it has been supposed, with 
every- probability, to have been the burial-place of the family 
of Ovid the Latin poet. It was discovered in sixteen 
hundred and seventy-four, then covered with elegant paint- 
ings, symbolizing the reception of the poet in the spirit- 
land, with other relevant pictures, as also inscriptions to 
Ouintus Ambrosius Naso, his wife and freedmen. They 
have all loner since vanished ; but the designs of them have 
been preserved in the drawings and engravings of Santi 
Bartoli. From these indications it has been inferred that 
this was the burial-place, if not of the poet himself, at 
least of his family and descendants. 

Whilst contemplating this tomb, it is melancholy to turn 
to the poet's long and weary banishment, with the com- 
plaints of which his elegies and epistles are so loaded, and 
recall his words as he was perhaps thinking of this dim 
cave. " Shall I then depart," he writes to his wife by the 
hand of another, "so far awav in unknown resnons, and 
will death be embittered by the very spot ? Will my body 
not waste away on my wonted couch ? Will there be no 
one to lament my sepulture ? And will not a few moments 
be added to my life as the tears of my wife fall upon my 
face ? and shall I give no last injunction ? and shall no 
friendly hand close my failing eyes amid the sobs at- 
tending my last moments ; but shall barbarian earth cover 
this head, unlamented, without funeral rites and without 
the honour of a tomb ? . . . Oh, that my soul would 



144 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



perish with my body, and that no part of me would escape 
the consuming pile ! For if my immortal spirit soars aloft 
into the vacant air, and the words of the Samian saere are 
true, a Roman shade will be wandering amid Sarmatian 
ghosts, and will ever be a stranger amid uncivilized spirits."* 

This sad letter concludes with the request that when he 
is dead his ashes may be taken back in an urn mixed with 
leaves and powdered amomum, and laid in the ground 
near the city, with an inscription (though he says his most 
enduring memorial must be his works) telling who it is 
that lies there, and calling upon the passer-by for a prayer 
that he may be allowed to rest in peace. 

Beneath these cliffs runs the Via Flaminia, going from 
Rome in a northerly direction, crossing the Cremera, 
and passing Prima Porta in the way towards Florence. 
Many a sturdy fight have these grim rocks witnessed, 
many a heart has beat thick and fast under their solemn 
shade, many a dying eye has grown dim with the film of 
death as it gazed on their stern fronts, unchanged through 
all the slaughter ; many a weeping mother has passed 
underneath their lowering brows, her heart filled with tears 
for her life's companion slain ; many a newly-made orphan 
sat at their foot in sadness and desolation. To describe all 
the known scenes of which they have been the unmoved 
spectators would fill a volume : let it be enough to give one 
here, not the least important. 

In the early part of the fourth century, the rule of the 
Roman empire was divided between Constantine and 
Maxentius ; the former holding the Italian, and the latter 
the transalpine territory. Whilst Constantine fulfilled the 
duties of a responsible office with tact and vigour, Maxen- 
tius, who remained in Italy, gave himself up to the abuse 
of power and the worst passions of humanity. Selfish, 
indolent, and unjust, he sought but to support and enlarge 
a vicious soldiery at the expense of the best and noblest 
people and sentiments of the state, and last of all, plotted 

* B. iii. el. 3. 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENsE. 



H5 



to overthrow his coadjutor, in order to take the reins of full 
power into his own hands. The honest and fine-spirited 
Constantine, nevertheless, disregarded as long as possible 
every attempt to bring about a contest ; but finally, com- 
pelled to act, seconded by the earnest request of the 
Roman people that he would help them to get rid of a 
mean and contemptible tyrant, he mustered all his available 
troops, passing the Alps to meet an enemy whose numerical 
force was four times greater than his own. Enervated, how- 
ever, by supineness and the luxuries of southern life, the supe- 
rior number of the Italian army did not avail them, for the 
vigorous and active Constantine, after a succession of signal 
victories in north Italy, marched rapidly towards Rome and 
met the army of Maxentius encamped on the level plain 
stretching from these rocky cliffs (themselves of an ominous 
red) to the river, distant from half a mile to a mile from 
their base. Constantine disposed his troops that the enemy 
might have the river in his rear, himself taking a prominent 
lead, charging the foe with his heavy Gallic cavalry. The 
defeat of the Maxentian army was complete, in spite of the 
bravery of the praetorians, who perished to a man where 
they first stood. The army fled in wild confusion, driven 
by thousands into the Tiber, whilst Maxentius himself, at- 
tempting to regain the city by the Milvian bridge, was thrust 
into the stream in the struggle, and drowned in its waters. 

Visitors to the Vatican will recollect the spirited represent- 
ation of this battle given in Raphael's fine design on the 
walls of the Stanze. He has, however, with the permissible 
latitude of art, chosen for the scene of the battle the neigh- 
bourhood of the Milvian bridge, three miles from the spot 
where it actually occurred. It also finds a sculptured 
record on the arch of Constantine near the Coliseum, which 
was built to commemorate this event. 

On the heights stretching along the Via Salara as it 
approaches Castel Giubileo, is a desolate-looking residence, 
called the Villa Spada. This is supposed to occupy the 
site of the villa of Phaon, freedman of Nero the emperor, 



46 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



who here killed himself. The story of his latter days is 
told with close circumstantiality by Dion Cassius. After 
he had enacted every vice and all manner of folly, a Gaul, 
named Caius Julius Vindex, descended from a royal family, 
whose father was of the order of senators, got up and 
denounced him publicly. Nero set a reward of twenty-five 
millions of drachmas on his head. " I will give my own 
head," said Vindex, " as a reward to him that shall bring 
me that of Nero." Vindex shortly afterwards, misunder- 
standing his colleague Rufus, destroyed himself. Rufus, 
however, carried out the revolution. At first Nero pre- 
tended to despise the movement ; but when he learned 
that Galba was proclaimed emperor, he was seized with a 
panic, and then formed a resolution to destroy the senate, 
set fire to Rome, and retire to Alexandria, saying that he 
would live there by the practice of music, in which he 
believed himself to be a proficient ; but when he was 
deserted by his guards, he disguised himself, mounting a 
sorry horse, following the Via Salara. Finding, however, 
that he was known and saluted on the high road, he dis- 
mounted, hiding himself amongst the canes and reeds, 
where the least sound terrified him. Taking refuge in a 
cave-, he was compelled to make a meal of bread and water 
for the first time in his life. " Is this the delicious drink I 
was wont to have ?" he asked himself scornfully. In the 
meantime tidings had reached Rome of his place of con- 
cealment. When he heard the approach of the horsemen 
sent to seek him, he implored the three freedmen who were 
his sole attendants to kill him, which, when they refused 
to do, he said, sighing, that he was the only man in the 
world who had neither friend nor enemy. As the horsemen 
approached, he thrust his sword into his body, saying, 
" Gods ! what a master dies to-day." He was the last of 
the race of emperors who claimed descent from the line of 
^Eneas through Augustus. 

A little beyond the Villa Spada, and about five miles 
from Rome, between the river and the Via Salara, is seen 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENJE. 



147 



the somewhat abrupt acclivity of Castel Giubileo, the site 
of the ancient Fidenae ; the " urbs alta et munita " — lofty and 
fortified city — of Livy, a bold headland rising from the level 
of the plain, its steep side presented to the river. It ob- 
tained its present name from the house on its summit, 
which was built in a jubilee year. Formerly the river, now 
some distance from its base (swift and vertiginous still, as 
described by Dionysius), may have ran immediately beneath 
it. It would then have been a formidable place of defence, 
which might partly account for the success with which it 
held out against the more powerful Romans. On the side 
from the river, it gradually slopes down until it joins a 
range of hills rising on the north-west, consisting of volcanic 
tufa, honeycombed with the tombs of the ancient city. 
Some of these remain tolerably perfect, with niches for the 
lamps and urns, and seats cut out of the rock. Whatever 
sculptures may have existed on the face of the rock outside 
of the tombs have quite vanished. These tombs have all 
the evidences of Etruscan origin. The city, when at its 
largest, must not only have covered the sloping headland 
above described, but also have been extended from the 
lower part of the promontory to the adjacent range exca- 
vated with tombs. These cliffs would also offer a strong 
position in warfare. Probably the vulnerable point would 
be that lying between the two hills, from which its defeats 
for the most part may have been accomplished ; although 
in the case of its being undermined, as mentioned by Livy, 
he tells us that the mine was carried into the arx or citadel, 
which might be supposed to have occupied the highest and 
steepest part of the promontory. Nibby, however, thinks 
that the arx was placed on the longer range of hills 
removed from the river. The same writer assigns the 
fragments of marble and other remains found betwixt 
the Villa Spada and this place rather to edifices of 
the latter empire, than the primitive Fidenae. He even 
thinks it probable that some large stones found here may 
have formed a part of the walls. 



L 2 



148 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



The history of this city is an eventful one. In giving a 
sketch of its more noteworthy events, it will be necessary 
to begin with an old story. 

In the early days of regal Rome, Tullus Hostilius was 
placed upon the throne by election of the people, who 
confirmed himself in their good graces by abandoning the 
royal prerogative of certain lands in their favour, with 
other acts of grace. At that time Rome was growing in 
splendour and power ; so much so, as to fall under the 
envy of the neighbouring states and towns. Amongst 
these was Alba Longa, standing by a volcanic lake on an 
eminence of the mountains to which it gave the name, 
about fifteen miles from Rome, under the government of a 
certain Cluilius, who was also possessed of a sentiment of 
envy towards the sister city, both Rome and Alba being 
said to own a common ancestry from the Alban kings of 
Lavinium, descended from yEneas. Not daring to attack 
Rome without some pretext, Cluilius incited the Albans 
to petty thefts and pillagings on the Roman territory, 
thinking by this means to bring himself in contact with 
the Romans, and accomplish his warlike intentions with a 
better grace. The Romans, irritated by these marauders, 
at last made an incursion into the Alban territory, slaying 
some, and taking others prisoners. This was just what 
Cluilius wished. He assembled his countrymen, inveighing 
against the Romans bitterly, requiring that ambassadors 
should be sent to Rome to demand satisfaction ; which 
was accordingly done. As the two nations were nominally 
allies according to a treaty entered into in the days of 
Romulus, by which either city was to sue for justice of its 
colleague in case of wrong, and war was not to be com- 
menced unless this was refused, neither wished first to 
break the compact subsisting between them. So when the 
ambassadors arrived in Rome, Tullus Hostilius caused 
them to be entertained sumptuously until the following 
day. but without seeing them ; in the meantime sending 
other, Roman, ambassadors to the Albans, to demand a 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN.F. 



149 



similar satisfaction from them, in order that the Romans 
should not be the first called upon to make reparation. On 
the former stating their ambassage, they were refused on 
the ground that already their embassy had been antici- 
pated. When they returned to Rome, Tullus summoned 
the Albans, and informed them of his stratagem, telling 
them that as he had already been refused reparation at 
their hands, he declared a just and necessary war against 
them. 

So the two armies were drawn up against each other, and 
a goodly array they would seem to have presented, since 
each hesitated to make the attack, even until the warmth 
of the animosity between them began to diminish.. Cluilius 
at last resolved upon action, but the night before the pro- 
posed encounter, was found dead in his tent, apparently 
from natural causes. In his stead was appointed Mettus 
Fufetius, accused by the historians of tardiness and incom- 
petency. However that might be, he proposed an armis- 
tice, submitting that instead of risking the safety of the two 
states by a devouring warfare, they should rather appoint 
certain individuals to fight out the quarrel, and decide by 
personal combat which of them should rule the other, 
imforming them that already the Fidenates and Veientes, 
who under the reign of Numa had pretty well recovered 
their former reverses, had entered into a secret alliance to 
break off the Roman yoke by waiting for the day of battle, 
with the intention of rushing in on its termination, and 
treating both victor and vanquished as common enemies ; 
in proof of which he caused letters from his friends in 
Fidenae to be read, the contents of which were confirmed 
by the messenger who bore them. The Romans were, 
therefore, not unwilling to accede to the proposition of 
Mettus. But now, whilst every person wished to thrust 
himself forward as eligible for so honourable an under- 
taking, arose the question as to who should be entrusted 
with an enterprise of so momentous an issue. Proposal 
after proposal was made and discarded ; but circumstances 



150 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



at last decided what counsel and consideration had failed 
to effect 

In the city of Alba there was a man named Sicinius, 
father of twin daughters who had been married, the one to 
an Alban, the other to a Roman. These daughters had 
each brought into the world three male children at the first 
birth, who grew up, gifted in beauty and strength, and 
magnanimity of mind. These were thought to be pointed 
out by the gods as fit champions for the national supremacy. 
It is true, that at first there were objections raised on the 
score of consanguinity, but these were speedily overruled 
by the youths themselves, who professed themselves willing 
to forget everything else in the honour and prosperity of 
their respective countries, without any desire to excuse 
themselves from the combat. Accordingly, they were 
placed face to face in front of the two armies, which were 
drawn up to witness the combat on the confines of the two 
states. It was a touching sight to see these young men, 
relatives, with warm and friendly feeling to each other, 
come to the contest, arrayed in the panoplies of war, but 
each bearing withal the insignia of death upon him, as if he 
expected to come out of it no more alive. It was a still 
more saddening sight when they threw themselves with 
tears and strong expressions of tenderness into each other's 
arms, protesting against the hardness of fate that com- 
pelled them to stand before each other as enemies. A 
dead silence prevailed when they first began to fight, but 
presently the excitement of the contest burst forth ; both 
armies loudly cheering and inciting the combatants, till the 
enthusiasm knew no bounds. Long was the strife doubt- 
ful ; until, at last, the eldest of the Albans, after giving 
and receiving many wounds, ran his adversary through the 
body and killed him. But too soon rose the mighty shout . 
from the Albans, who now considered the victory certain, 
for one of the Roman brothers fighting near him im- 
mediately disengaged himself, and attacking the successful 
champion, vehemently plunged his sword in his throat, so 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENJE. 



that he also died. This death was again avenged instantly 
upon the Roman, who however, before he was slain, ham- 
strung the Alban, who, though considerably disabled, yet 
managed to rally, in order to assist his remaining brother 
against the last of the Roman trio. The latter now seeing 
himself liable to be overpowered, conceived the stratagem 
of flight ; and when he had by this means separated his 
adversaries, the one already lamed not being able to keep 
up with the other, and whilst the whole Roman army was 
hooting him as a coward, and the Albans already crowning 
themselves with bays, turned round suddenly, first slaying 
the foremost one, and then putting an end to his companion, 
Thus the field remained to the last of the Roman com- 
batants, who, taking the tokens of victory, hastened to the 
city, with the filial sentiments of his time and country, to 
convey the joyful intelligence to his father. 

Now, as he entered the gates of the city, amongst the 
crowds pressing out anxious for news of the contest, he was 
much surprised to meet his own sister, who, unattended and 
in dishabille, had so far forgotten appearances as to have 
set aside those rules which were something more than 
matters of etiquette to the Roman maiden. Willing, how- 
ever, to put the best construction upon her appearance, he 
naturally concluded that anxiety for her brothers' welfare 
had brought her out thus inconsiderately. But there was 
something more than this. Unknown to her brother and the 
world, she had been already affianced to one of the Alban 
youths, and hearing the result of the conflict, had rushed 
out of the house despite of all efforts to detain her. Meeting 
her brother, crowned with garlands of victory, and bearing 
the spoils of the slain, amongst which was an embroidered 
garment which she herself had worked for her lover — per- 
haps he had worn it tenderly to his heart for that very 
reason — all stained with blood ; with many lamentations 
she upbraided him in the bitterest terms, asking him of 
what wild beast he had the heart, beating her breast, and 
tearing her hair violently. He in his turn replied with the 



152 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



greatest indignation, that she was not worthy of her name 
or country, thus to dishonour both, and drawing his sword, 
pierced her through the body, bidding her go and rejoin 
her departed lover. 

And herein comes out the sturdy stuff of which the old 
Roman character was made. When the father heard of it, 
so far was he from disapproving of what had been done, that 
he would not allow her to be brought to the family tomb, 
or any funeral ceremony to be used over her ; and, indeed, 
refused to take any part in her burial at all ; so that the 
passers-by were fain to cover her with earth and stones 
where she lay. The same day this iron-hearted father 
partook of the festivities and rejoicing as though he had no 
concern whatever with the tragical events that had brought 
them about. 

At that time murder in Rome, especially domestic 
murder, was most severely punished ; for the murderer was 
outlawed by the act ; so that he might be put to death 
without trial. Horatius was brought before the king on 
the capital charge. But whilst the latter, sorely puzzled, 
knew not whether to acquit or condemn him, the father 
came forward, protesting against his accusation, and saying, 
as the father of both, he had a right to be heard. Tullus, 
however, not willing to have the responsibility of decision, 
committed the question to the votes of the people, who 
acquitted Horatius of murder. The king, nevertheless, 
scarcely satisfied with this inquisition for blood, caused 
him to undergo various purifying ceremonies ; the last of 
which was that he should pass under the yoke (a transverse 
beam laid across two perpendicular ones) beneath which 
captives were led, in order to obtain manumission. The 
one beneath which Horatius passed stood long afterwards, 
stretched above the altars of one of the streets of Rome, an 
object of reverence to the citizens, henceforward called 
Sororium Tigillum, or the Sister's Beam. 

No sooner had the Romans consolidated, as they thought, 
their new union with the Albans, than they declared war a 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENjE. 



153 



second time against the Fidenates, in order to punish them 
for their intrigue. The latter, having obtained the assist- 
ance of the Veientes, put themselves in open revolt and 
retired to their city, together with the allied troops. The 
king of Rome placing the utmost confidence in the Alban 
general, communicated to him all his designs. Fufetius, 
however, growing jealous of Roman rule, formed a secret 
conspiracy with the Fidenates, promising to turn round on 
the Roman army as soon as fortune should favour his 
designs. Tullus crossed the Anio, and placed himself on 
the plain lying on the southern side of Fidenae, with the 
intention of going to battle the following morning. Fufetius 
in the meantime summoned the chief men of the Alban 
army, explaining his plans and inciting them to get rid of 
the Roman yoke. The next day at sunrise the Fidenates 
left their camp and ranged themselves out for battle. 
Tullus also crossed the Anio, and disposing his troops near 
the banks of the Tiber, stood opposed to the Veientes ; 
the Albans facing the Fidenates, away from the river, at 
the foot of the hills trending towards Fidenae. As the two 
armies approached, the Albans, separating themselves from 
the Romans, began to ascend the heights, thus leaving the 
right wing of the latter uncovered and exposing them to 
great slaughter. At this moment a horseman rode up, 
informing Tullus of the real state of matters. With great 
presence of mind he immediately ordered the cavalry to 
elevate their spears ; by this means concealing the retreat 
of the allies from a great proportion of his army ; calling 
out in a loud voice, that they were taking up that position 
by his orders so that they might reach the enemy's rear. 
This being heard by the Fidenates, it caused, them to 
misdoubt the intention of Fufetius, and giving way to the 
redoubled efforts of the Romans, they at last fled in 
confusion into their city. The following winter they were 
reduced to their former condition of dependence after 
having been besieged by Tullus and at last compelled to 
submit to his own terms. To end the story, Fufetius was 



154 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



first beaten with many stripes, and afterwards drawn 
asunder by horses ; and Alba finally levelled to the ground, 
its inhabitants being driven for shelter into Rome. 

Without noticing the minor encounters between the 
Fidenates and the Romans, the next important one was 
during the consulate of Publius Valerius, surnamed Popli- 
cola, and Titus Lucretius, in the year four hundred and 
ninety-six before Christ, when the Sabines made war upon 
Rome at the instigation of Sextus, son of Tarquinius, 
allying the Fidenates. There were two camps formed, one 
in the open field not far from Fidense, and the other within 
the city ; the latter both for a guard to the city and a 
reserve for those without. The Romans marched out to 
meet them, intending to bring matters to an immediate 
engagement. The Sabines, on the contrary, fearing the 
unflinching boldness of the Roman troops, prepared for the 
surprise of a night attack, rather than face them in the 
open field. An ambuscade was laid, and everything put in 
readiness for carrying out this plan, when a deserter from 
the Sabine camp gave intimation of all that had been done, 
which was confirmed by some prisoners taken while getting 
wood. A little before midnight the Sabine general crept 
stealthily to the Roman camp, shrouded in silence and the 
darkness of the night, and seeing no lights nor other 
indications of wakefulness, concluded that the enemy 
was steeped in slumber, oblivious of danger. Filling up 
the trenches with the fascines they had prepared, they 
passed over unopposed, but immediately on entering the 
camp they were attacked and killed by the Romans who 
were lying in wait for them. At that moment the moon 
arose showing the Sabines heaps of their slain companions 
and their own danger. A great shout was raised by the 
Romans. In a moment the camps of both generals were 
in motion, fully armed. On that night there fell of the 
Sabines and their allies thirteen thousand, four thousand 
two hundred being made prisoners. In a few days the 
city of Fidenae was taken. The principal persons being 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDEN^E. 



155 



punished, but the city left to a great extent unmolested, 
only receiving a garrison of Roman soldiers within it to 
keep it in subjection. 

The last act remains to be told in the changeful history 
of the city. In the year three hundred and sixteen of 
Rome, or four hundred and thirty-eight before the Christian 
era, Fidense again rebelled against Roman dominion, 
placing itself under that of Veii, and, what was worse, by 
the order of Lars Tolumnus, king of Veii, slew four Roman 
ambassadors sent to inquire into their disaffection. This 
was at once cause for war. The Fidenates were not only 
supported in this struggle by the Veientes, but also were 
further strengthened by the Falisci, an Etruscan people 
belonging to a district higher up the river. The two 
former hoped rather by protracting the war to harass and 
gain an advantage over the Roman troops, but the Falisci, 
on the contrary, being some distance from their homes, 
wished to give battle at once and decide the contest. This 
Lars concluded to do, and sending a party of Veientes, 
who were the most numerous of the forces, to attack the 
rear of the Romans during the heat of battle, at once 
prepared for the engagement. The Fidenates were placed 
in the centre, the two allies respectively occupying the 
lateral wings. For a while all was silent, the Romans 
awaiting the issue of some auguries before the onset. 
Presently a loud shout was raised. The armies met with 
clashing weapons ; but everywhere the Romans had the 
advantage. Lars himself behaved valiantly! Again and 
again he rallied his cavalry, rushing into the thick of the 
fight, dealing slaughter on every hand ; even when the 
allied army was giving back from the shock of Roman 
arms. Whilst matters were in this condition, one Aulus 
Cornelius Cossus, a tribune of the Roman soldiers, seeing- 
the Roman army driven back by the charge of the Veientine 
king, whom he recognised by his royal apparel as he flew 
along the lines of his troops inciting them to action, rode 
forwards, exclaiming, u Is this the traitor to treaties, and 



156 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



rebel to the law of nations ? As a victim he shall now be 
slain (if the gods desire anything to be kept sacred), a 
sacrifice to the manes of the murdered ambassadors." 
Thus saying, he rode at him furiously with level lance, and 
throwing him upon the ground as he attempted to rise, 
flung him back with his shield ; finally pinning him a 
corpse to the earth, taking his spoils, decapitating him, and 
placing his head upon the point of his spear. By this 
bloody token the whole allied army knew it was beaten, 
and fled panic-stricken on every side ; the Fidenates 
making the most successful retreat from their knowledge 
of the country ; the Romans, after pursuing them to their 
intrenchments, crossing the Tiber and returning to their 
city with much booty from the surrounding territory. 

A great triumph was the reward of Cossus, in which he 
bore the spoils of the slain king, followed by the soldiers, 
who extolled him in unmeasured verse as being equal with 
Romulus. These spoils he carried to the temple of Jupiter 
Feretrius. So much was he praised and honoured that all 
eyes were drawn from the dictatorial carriage even, and none 
shared with him the popularity of that day. 

The Romans did not immediately follow up their victory, 
as the surrounding country was devastated by a severe 
pestilence ; but the Fidenates, taking advantage of the lull 
of hostilities, descended upon the Roman territory, com- 
mitting great depredations, and being again joined by 
the Veientes (the Falisci could not be induced to take 
part in the struggle any more), approached the walls of 
Rome. The Romans were, however, quickly under arms, 
and not only repulsed them from the city, but followed 
them almost to Nomentum, where a great battle was 
fought, the Romans being victorious as before. The 
Fidenates took refuge within their city, which, being loftily 
situated, well fortified and supplied with an abundance of 
provision, could neither be taken by assault nor blockade. 
Upon this the Romans determined upon carrying a mine 
into the citadel. Distracting the people by feints and 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENJE. 



157 



skirmishes, they were able finally to accomplish their object, 
emerging into their stronghold, and then making themselves 
masters of the city. 

Fidenae had scarcely kept truce with Rome ten years 
after this defeat when it was reported that some Fidenatan 
youths had joined the Veientes in a marauding party on 
the Roman territory. Again, however, collision was avoided 
for the time being in consequence of a severe drought, 
followed by a dreadful plague in which men and animals 
suffered alike. Heralds were afterwards sent to Veil and 
restitution demanded, but in vain. War was declared 
against Veii, and in an engagement that ensued the 
Romans were worsted. Dispirited by their defeat, the 
Romans re-entered their city amidst general mourning, 
whilst the Veientes sent round to the neighbouring states 
inviting them to unite in the contest with Rome. The 
only one, however, which listened to this proposal was 
Fidenae. Slaying the Roman settlers who had taken up 
their abode within their city, they at once allied themselves 
with the Veientes and prepared for renewed hostilities. It 
was deliberated which would be the most eligible seat of 
war, Veii or Fidenae. At last it was concluded to carry it 
to the latter place ; and once more this fertile plain was 
destined to be covered with blood for dew and the bodies 
of slain men for the fruits of the earth. 

The Roman camp was pitched at a distance of fifteen 
hundred paces from Fidenae, on the Roman side, with a 
range of hills rising on the right and the Tiber on the left. 
Mamercus /Emilius was dictator and Aulus Cossus master 
of the horse. The engagement began. The Roman 
legions fought impetuously, furiously, calling their enemies 
murderers, traitors, and truce breakers, bad both as friends 
and enemies. 

From the very first the Romans had the advantage, and 
pressed their opponents even to the gates of their city. 
But here the surprise of a new and unusual mode of war- 
fare awaited them. No sooner had the Romans gained 



i 5 S 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



the entrance into the city than they were met by a vast 
multitude of persons rushing out of the gateway, bearing 
blazing torches and firebrands, who, with wild cries, rushed 
amongst them, dismaying them with flames of fire and the 
most furious and frantic gestures and behaviour. At first 
the Romans were beaten back ; but Ouintius Pennus, 
military tribune, rushed forward calling on them to dash 
out the brands with their weapons, or seize them and burn 
the city with their own flames, remembering their names 
and wrongs as Romans. The firebrands were seized, upon 
which the warfare was redoubled, as the dictator took off 
the bridle from his horse, bidding his troops do the 
same, and setting spurs to its flanks determined either to 
be a conqueror or to perish. The cavalry under his com- 
mand followed his example, rushing hither and thither and 
distributing slaughter on every side ; leaving their traces 
marked by the dead and wounded wherever they passed. 
The Roman reserves had already attacked the enemy in 
the rear. Thus surrounded, the whole battle became en- 
veloped in smoke and dust. A universal slaughter ensued. 
The Veientes rushed precipitately to the river, across which 
their own city lay, where most of them perished, either 
slain on its banks or else borne down in the water by the 
weight of their armour. Hotly pursued to the gates, the 
Fidenates were no longer able to exclude the enemy. The 
city was entered and pillaged, the inhabitants being carried 
to Rome and sold as slaves : thus closing the history of 
Fidenae as an independent state and people. 

Henceforward it fell into decay. It is mentioned by 
Cicero, Horace, Strabo, and Juvenal, as being a place of 
insignificant importance in their days, yet it always main- 
tained a municipality. In the reign of Tiberius it was the 
seat of a disastrous calamity thus related by the historian 
Tacitus : — 

" A sudden calamity occurred in the consulship of Marcus 
Licinius and Lucius Calpurnius, which equalled the havoc 
of the most destructive wars ; its beginning and end were 



Chap. VI. 



FROM ROME TO FIDENJE. 



159 



simultaneous. One Atilius had undertaken to erect an 
amphitheatre at Fidenae, there to exhibit a combat of 
gladiators : he was of the race of freedmen, and as he 
engaged in the business from no exuberance of wealth, 
nor to acquire popularity amongst the inhabitants, but as 
a matter of sordid gain, he neither put it upon solid founda- 
tions, nor employed braces to strengthen the wooden fabric 
which formed the superstructure. Thither flocked from 
Rome persons of either sex and every age, eager for such 
shows, as during the reign of Tiberius they were debarred 
from diversions at home ; and in greater crowds from the 
nearness of the place : hence the calamity was the more 
disastrous ; for the theatre being crowded so as to form 
a dense mass, and then rent asunder, some portions tumbled 
inwards, others bulging towards the outer parts, a countless 
number of human beings, either intent upon the spectacle 
or standing near around the place, were either borne head- 
long to the ground or buried under the ruins. Those, 
indeed, who were killed by the shock of the first crash, 
escaped, as far as was possible in such a disaster, the misery 
of torture : much more to be pitied were those who, with 
portions of their bodies torn away, were not yet forsaken of 
life ; those who by day beheld their wives and children, 
and by night distinguished them by their groans and cries. 
And now others, summoned to the spot by the sad tidings, 
bewailed one his brother, another his kinsman, a third his 
parents : even they whose friends or kindred were absent 
on a different account, were yet terrified ; for as it was not 
as yet distinctly known who had fallen in the calamity, 
the alarm spread wider from the uncertainty. 

"When the ruins began to be removed, they -crowded 
around the dead, embracing them and kissing them ; 
and frequently there arose a contest about their identity, 
where distortion of the features, personal resemblance, 
or similarity of age had created a liability to error in 
those who claimed them. Fifty thousand souls were 
crushed to death or maimed by this sad disaster : it 



r6o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 



was therefore for the future provided by a decree of the 
senate, that no man under the qualification of four hundred 
thousand sesterces should exhibit the spectacle of gladia- 
tors ; and no amphitheatre should be founded but upon 
ground of proved solidity. Atilius was punished with exile. 
However, immediately upon this destructive calamity, the 
doors of the great were thrown open ; medicines and phy- 
sicians were furnished to all ; and at that juncture the city, 
though under an aspect of sorrow, presented an image of 
the public spirit of the ancient Romans ; who, after great 
battles, relieved and sustained the wounded by their liberality 
and attentions."* 

Of Fidenae itself there is now nothing left ; although 
Cluver, an antiquary of the- latter part of the seventeenth 
century, says that in his time there still existed ruins of 
considerable importance, partly in the valley and partly on 
the high ground. Kircher also speaks of the remains of 
a large city existing at Castel Giubileo, in sixteen hundred 
and thirty-seven. Now a solitary farm-house crowns the 
summit of its site, which stands as a beacon to all the 
country round. It is a sturdy edifice with a large court 
and a chapel. Probably it may have been built from 
remains of the ancient city. It is only tenanted by a few 
peasants, and wears a dreary and forsaken appearance. 
The noise of a bustling population and the clash of arms 
have given place to the singing shepherd and bleating flock, 
or the dead silence of the Campagna. I will ask the reader 
to climb with me up to the summit in one of several visits 
I made to it from Rome. 

What a prospect lies before us ! At our feet a varied 
and luxuriant plain stretches away through many a sunny 
upland and sombre hollow. Rich and, at the same time, 
subdued in colour, the billowy Campagna floats into seas 
of aerial grey just touched by the far sunlight .into little 
rosy isles of rest. Through this plain, crossed with lines 
of road and spotted with white houses, with here and 
* Ann. iv. 62, 63. 



Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENjE. 



161 



there a cypress or a pine rising beside them, the river 
wanders, turning hither and thither as if loth to leave 
it. Its banks are clothed with bursting vegetation, its 
tawny bosom taking the silver-broidered shadows, curling 
and waving them in its turbid depths. The farther side of 
the plain, dotted over with feeding sheep, was the battle- 
field of Maxentius and Constantine before described. Be- 
yond this runs the range of the Saxa Rubra, now smiling 
grimly in the sunshine, to the left of which are seen the 
pleasant heights of Monte Mario and the huge dome of 
St. Peter's. Beyond the plain, over an undulating tract of 
rising ground, the blue outline of Soracte keeps the horizon. 
More to the right, dimly imbedded in a distant hollow, the 
Cremera flows and empties itself into the Tiber ; and 
farther still, hardly discernible in the trembling summer 
air, are the heights of Veii. Then comes the elevation upon 
which stood the villa of Livia. Nearer, and in the same 
direction, a few grey buildings at Marcigliana mark the 
conjectured site of the ancient Latin city Crustumerium. 
Beneath this hill flows the Allia ; beyond which lies the 
battle-field on which the Romans met with their shameful 
defeat by the Gauls under Brennus. Following the same 
direction, the Sabine mountains rise, beginning with the 
abrupt peaks of Monticelli ; some snowy summits gleam- 
ing at the far horizon, fit guardians of so beautiful a terri- 
tory. At their foot may be seen the dim sparkle of Tivoli, 
St. Angelo the birth-place of Servius Tullius, Palombaro, 
and many lesser towns and villages. Over all this a tender 
and luxurious calm broods. It is impossible to realise the 
fact that these desolate heights were once piled with cities 
and peopled with an active and bustling humanity, much 
less that the plains below were the seat of so much horrible 
slaughter and bloodshed. Now every trace of passion and 
ambition has vanished. Quiet sunshine fills the scene. 
Tranquillity reigns once more, and Nature is at peace with 
herself. 



M 



( i62 ) 



Chap. VII. 



CHAPTER VII. 

FROM FIDENsE TO SCORANO. 

A S we passed along the river there was an inexpressible 
il grace and beauty in the shifting lines of the Cam- 
pagna, bounded by the Tusculan range of hills softened in 
the warm glow of the bright sunshine ; every moment 
opening out some new charm in the landscape, each ap- 
pearing more lovely than the last. 

Nearly opposite to Fidense, on the left, the Cremera 
discharges itself into the Tiber ; an inconsiderable stream 
in itself, but the nurse and companion of the Etruscan city 
Veil Following its picturesque bed for about six miles, a 
romantic valley of deeply-cut gorges and escarped heights 
is seen in which this city was situated. Its site, long an 
object of research, was determined by interpreting strictly 
the descriptions of the old historians, who in regard to its 
physical features and distance from Rome, appear to have 
described it very accurately — so accurately and so obviously 
that it is singular it could have escaped identification so 
long, especially as its site is definitively marked by traces 
of human labour in the remains of walls, tombs and other 
monuments. Its situation is highly romantic, but it can 
only be appreciated in its immediate vicinity, as its highest 
point does not rise very much above the level of the sur- 
rounding Campagna, which, after the gorges are surmounted, 
everywhere slopes from it in easy lines. The sides of these 
ravines are clothed with thick plantations ; over one of 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENjE TO SCORANO. 



163 



which a branch of the Cremera, after turning a picturesquely 
situated mill, falls, and then flows away deep down, half 
hidden amongst broad-leaved burs and sapling oaks. 
Surrounded by these gorges ; the result of volcanic action 
of enormous force — the ancient city rose upon the steep 
and lofty rocks, further fortified by massive stone walls, 
ruins of which still remain. No wonder that it could stand 
a ten years' siege ; it would be rather a wonder that, if 
sufficiently provisioned, it could ever be taken at all from 
without. 




VEII, FROM THE CAMPAGNA. 



The importance of Veii was once very great. It was 
said to have been as large as Athens. It was even seriously 
deliberated after its final reduction by the Romans, when 
the Gallic invasion under Brennus had produced such 
serious results to their own city, if it would not be better 
to transfer Rome altogether to Veii. It was only on the 
strong appeal of Camillus to the associations belonging to 
the city of their forefathers, that the Romans were persuaded 
to abandon the project. Dionysius says that " it possessed 

M 2 



1 64 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VII. 



a large and fruitful territory, partly mountainous and partly 
in the plain. The air was pure and healthy, the country 
being free from the vicinity of the marshes, which produce 
a heavy atmosphere, and without any river which might 
render the morning air too rigid. Nevertheless there was 
abundance of water, not artificially conducted, but rising 
from natural springs, and good to drink."* 

The first time that Veii appears in history, is when the 
Fidenates seized on some boats of provisions despatched to 
Rome by the Crustumerians at a time of famine, drawing 
upon themselves the enmity of Romulus, who thereupon 
made himself master of their city, and established a garrison 
there of three hundred soldiers. The Veientes, looking 
with jealousy on this advancement of Roman power, re- 
quested Romulus to withdraw his troops from Fidense, and 
to restore to the Fidenates the lands he had confiscated. 
Romulus refusing, they drew up their army in front of 
Fidenae, upon which he immediately occupied the city itself. 
This resulted in a battle, in which the Veientes were discom- 
fited. They then made a truce for a hundred years, the 
conditions of which were registered on stone columns, 
ceding to the Romans certain territories on the river, 
together with the salt flats of Ostia. 

Amongst the many subsequent contests between the 
Romans and Veientes, there are some more important than 
the rest, which may be here noticed. One of these hap- 
pened under the joint consulship of Cneius Manlius and 
Marcus Fabius, when the Veientes declared war against the 
Romans, largely supported by the Etruscans of the neigh- 
bouring country. These consuls marched against Veii, 
encamping on two adjacent hills before it. The Roman 
army, however, being greatly inferior in numbers to that of 
the Veientes, and being, besides, disturbed with disaffection, 
it was thought better to fortify the encampment, and, by 
forbearing action as long as possible, increase the ardour of 
the soldiers for an engagement. Of this the Veientes and 
* In one of the fragments discovered by Cardinal Mai. 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENsE TO SCORANO. 165 



their allies being aware, they suffered considerable uneasiness, 
and did all that they possibly could to provoke a combat 
by taunting the Romans with cowardice, and challenging 
them to come forth and fight, approaching the very gates 
and ramparts of their fortification. This stratagem of the 
Roman generals had its effect upon their troops. The 
soldiers came in a body to their tents, entreating them to 
be led to battle, in order that they might stop the boasting 
of the enemy. The generals, however, refused, and dis- 
missed them, cautioning them that whoever raised his arm 
against the foe, would be treated as one of them, and im- 
mediately put to death. At last the Veientes actually 
began to draw a line of circumvallation around the Roman 
camp, and to cut off their supplies, whereupon the soldiers 
came once more to the tent of their generals, and demanded 
that they should be at once led into an engagement. Their 
enthusiasm was still more inflamed by a plebeian of ac- 
credited honour and courage, named Marcus Flavoleius, 
commander of one of the legions, who came forward holding 
up his sword, and swearing that he would return to Rome 
victorious or not at all. Presently the whole army followed 
his example. 

So the battle commenced, and a very sharp engagement 
it was for both sides. The Etruscans threw away their 
javelins in the confusion of the onset, so that it very soon 
became a hand-to-hand fight. Amongst the foremost in 
the fight the noble Fabian family were the most con- 
spicuous for their gallantry. One of these, Quintus Fabius, 
who had been consul two years before, as he was heading 
his men in the thick of the fight, was pierced in the breast 
by the sword of an Etruscan and killed, which had so dis- 
heartening an effect on the Roman soldiers, that they were 
beginning to give way before the redoubled strokes of the 
enemy, when the consul Marcus, leaping over the body as 
it lay upon the ground, cried, " Is this your oath, soldiers, 
that you would retreat, driven back to your camp ? Do you 
fear the enemy more than Jupiter and Mars, by whom 



1 66 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII 



you have sworn ? But I, who have not sworn, will fulfil 
your broken vow beside this body." His brother consul 
then appearing, bade him leave speech for action ; upon 
which, both rushing forward, carried with them the whole 
line. 

This gallant spirit soon diffused itself throughout the 
army. Various were the fortunes of the fight. But whilst 
it was still raging, the Etruscans, relying on their superior 
numbers, had draughted their reserves, and set them to 
plunder the Roman camp. Whilst they were thus occupied, 
the veteran troops of the third line, who had been driven 
back to the camp during the engagement, now attacked 
these on their own account, sending word to the general 
what had happened. Manlius immediately went thither, 
and posting his troops at the various entrances, began to 
attack them with vigour. This aroused the fury of the 
imprisoned enemy, who, in their desperate attempts to free 
themselves from the perilous situation, killed the consul, 
which so dismayed the Romans that they began to give 
way before them. This being perceived by the lieutenant- 
generals, they immediately opened a way for the Etruscans, 
who, rushing out of the camp, were met by the victorious 
troops of the Roman army, and at once discomfited by them, 
driven before them, together with the whole Etruscan army, 
into the city. The Romans waited in their encampment 
for several days ; but as the enemy did not again make its 
appearance, and an attack upon the city would have been 
quite out of the question, they returned to Rome, rejoicing, 
indeed, in their hardly won victory, but full of regrets for 
the two illustrious heroes who had paid the forfeit of their 
lives as the price of their bravery. A triumph was decreed 
to the consul, who led his victorious troops into Rome ; but 
he refused to enter into it in respect and grief for the dead ; 
thus, as the historian says, gaining to himself a nobler 
triumph. 

The war, however, was not over ; for the Veientes and 
their allies kept up constant and harassing incursions into 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENJE TO SCORANO. 



167 



the Roman territory. At the same time the Romans were 
beset with enemies on every hand. So emboldened were 
the Veientes that they had actually advanced as far as the 
faniculum on the other side of the Tiber, menacing Rome 
itself. Whilst the senate was sorely puzzled what course 
to take in the midst of so many enemies, with an im- 
poverished treasury, the distinguished patrician family of 
the Fabii came forwards, and through Cseso as their mouth- 
piece, volunteered to go forth against the Veientes, the 
expedition being at their own charge and responsibility, 
both of supplies and men, since it was not so much a great 
force that was required as a constancy of watchfulness to 
withstand the incursions of the foe. This offer was thank- 
fully accepted. They left the city amidst the acclamations 
and benedictions of the people ; three hundred and six 
bearing the name of Fabius, but numbering with their 
clients and followers from three to four thousand men. 
When they came to the river Cremera, not far from Veii, 
they built a fortress upon a steep and craggy hill, sur- 
rounding it with a double ditch, and fortifying it with 
towers ; thence ravaging the country beyond, whither the 
Veientes had taken their herds and flocks, thinking, by this 
means, to place them out of the reach of the enemy. They 
occupied this position two years. Their confidence, how- 
ever, at last proved their ruin. The astute Veientes soon 
perceived that if they were to be overcome, it must be by 
taking advantage of their bravery and daring, rather than 
opposing them by strength. An ambuscade was laid ; 
herds of cattle were driven within sight of the fortress they 
had erected, with a plain lying between ; the Romans 
immediately going in pursuit. Whilst they were dispersed 
in securing the cattle, the Veientes rose up on every side of 
them, pressing them until the whole band was confined 
within a narrow circle, fighting valiantly. Thus beset, they 
formed themselves into the shape of a wedge, and laying 
their strength upon one spot, forced their way out, and 
ascended a neighbouring acclivity, by this means obtaining 



1 68 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



a temporary advantage. Their valour, however, availed 
them little, for the enemy, sending round large detach- 
ments, poured upon them from higher ground ; so that they 
every one fell, fighting to the last man on the spot they 
occupied. It is said that the whole family of the Fabii 
here perished, excepting one youth left in Rome to prolong 
the race. 

After this the Veientes once more occupied the fanicu- 
lum, even crossing the Tiber and penetrating as far as the 
temple of Hope, which stood near the modern Porta Mag- 
giore. They were however eventually driven from their 
position, and retired to their own city. 

The Veientes afterwards allied themselves with the 
Fidenates, many subsequent engagements occurring be- 
tween the united armies and the Romans, some of which 
have already been described, as taking place near Fidenae. 

At last the Romans determined to bring about an ulti- 
mate trial, and, if possible, to entirely destroy their city, as 
they had done the cities of Fidenae and Alba. This reso- 
lution, however, was at first frustrated by a new alliance 
which the Veientes formed with the Capenates and the 
Falisci, and the quarrels which took place between the two 
Roman generals Sergius and Virginius. The antagonistic 
commanders were recalled and new ones appointed. The 
object of the Roman army was to cut off all their supplies, 
as well by keeping a close guard around the city as by 
depopulating the neighbouring country, and destroying 
the produce. In this position of affairs, significance was 
given to a circumstance, the connection of which with the 
matter in hand is not altogether obvious. The waters of 
the Alban lake had risen to an unusual height, it was said, 
without any apparent cause ; no rain having fallen at that 
time. A commission was sent to the Delphic oracle to 
learn what might be portended by this extraordinary 
occurrence. Whilst they were away it was delivered by 
an old Veientine soothsayer in the form of a prophecy, that 
Veii could never be taken until the waters of the Alban 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN^E TO SCORANO. 



169 



lake should find their way by an artificial outlet to the sea. 
The old man was decoyed from Veii, under pretence of 
consultation on some other matter, and then carried forcibly 
into the Roman camp, where he repeated what he had 
previously disclosed, describing how the desired object was 
to be attained. All that the old seer had uttered was con- 
firmed by the message of the oracle. The prescribed work 
was at once entered upon. The side of the hill, within 
whose hollow basin the lake lay, was pierced with a tunnel, 
and the waters drained off to a considerable depth. The 
tunnel remains to this day, still serving the purpose for 
which it was first formed. The significance of the fact may 
lie in the suggestion of carrying a mine into Veii. It could 
hardly, however, have taught the Romans the first use of 
such an expedient, since they had already taken Fidense by 
the same means. 

A new impetus was given to the war by the appointment 
of Marcus Furius Camillus to the dictatorship. His popu- 
larity and energy at once organised the whole proceeding. 
He made fresh levies of troops at Rome, doing away with 
the harassing and random skirmishes in which the Romans 
had been in the habit of engaging, concentrating the whole 
forces of the army to the special object in view. A mine 
was commenced at some distance from the city. The 
pioneers were divided into six companies, working night 
and day, six hours, consecutive labour allotted to each 
company in rotation. 

When the city was on the point of being taken, Camillus 
sent to Rome to know what was to be done with the spoil. 
After many differences of opinion, it was finally proclaimed 
through the streets of Rome that such of the inhabitants as 
wished to share the plunder of the city about to fall into 
their hands might go to the camp for that purpose. When 
all was in readiness, Camillus vowed a tenth part of the spoil 
to the god Apollo, and making a feint of attacking the city 
on various sides, as the soldiers ran to the walls, the mine 
was suddenly burst open in the very heart of the citadel, 



i7o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



and as was said, within the temple of Juno. An incident is 
added, for the truth of which, however, the old historians do 
not vouch. At the moment of bursting up the mine the 
king of Veii stood about to offer up the entrails of a certain 
animal on the altar of Juno, when it was declared that 
whoever should make that offering should be victorious 
over the enemy. The Roman soldiers, hearing this, sud- 
denly emerged, and seizing the sacrifice, themselves placed 
it upon the altar ; thus assuring themselves the victory. 
Immediately the whole city was in an uproar. Armed men 
poured in on every hand. Fire and slaughter did their 
fearful work, until the dictator caused it to be proclaimed 
that those who laid down their arms would be spared. 
Every article of value was seized by the Romans, and the 
inhabitants sold into slavery, the money being applied to 
the public treasury. Youths selected from the army, purified 
and arrayed in white, were appointed to lay reverential 
hands on the sacred images and bear them carefully away 
with much ceremony. When they came to the statue of 
Juno, which occupied the temple, she was asked if she were 
willing to go to Rome, when, it was said, she bowed her 
head in token of assent. This statue was taken to the 
Aventine hill, where Juno held " her eternal seat ;" Camillus 
subsequently raising there a temple to her honour. 

Thus fell the great city of Veii, the wealthiest of the 
Etruscan nation, three hundred and ninety-six years before 
the birth of Christ, impregnable by attack from without, 
after a long ten years' siege of summers and winters, during 
which time its enemy always suffered more than itself, art 
and not force having been its final overthrow. 

Great was the joy at Rome on the destruction of the old 
enemy. Before the senate could prescribe any religious 
ceremonial the temples were crowded with matrons pouring 
out their thanksgivings to the gods for the great victory. A 
four days' supplication was appointed — more than had been 
decreed at any other war. The whole city went forth to 
meet Camillus with the highest demonstrations of joy. 



Chap. VII. 



FROM FIDENJE TO SCORANO. 



171 



His triumph was an honourable one : though there arose 
some difficulty afterwards about the fulfilment of the vow 
Camillus had made of the dedication of the tenth part of 
the spoils to Apollo, since it was found hard to force the 
people to give up from what they had taken that which 
was necessary to acquit the sacred promise. 

From that time Veii became lost as an independent city 
— indeed could be scarcely said to survive as a city at all — 
serving only as an unimportant Roman colony. It had been 
proposed, as already stated, after the disastrous battle of 
the Allia that Rome itself should be transferred thither, in 
order to save the rebuilding of the houses and other struc- 
tures destroyed at that time ; from which circumstance one 
may gain some idea of the importance of the Etruscan city. 
Many families indeed had already established themselves 
there, but they were afterwards recalled by decree of the 
senate, which made it an offence punishable with death for 
any Roman to remain at Veii beyond a prescribed period. 
Gradually it fell into decay, without any subsequent history 
of importance. 

There is now very little of it left, but that little is full of 
interest and significance. The position in itself is so re- 
markable as to make a great deal apparent as to its ancient 
condition, whilst it is interesting to trace out, partly by 
speculation and partly by description, much of which there 
are only left obscure indications. The roads by which it 
was reached are still to be seen cut deep down into the 
solid rock so as to form lofty escarpments on each side. The 
rock itself is of distinctive volcanic origin, consisting of 
masses of black pumice reposing on an aqueous deposit of 
ashes ; the former bearing all the appearance of a fresh 
eruption.- Ruts are traceable at the sides of some of these 
roads, which are very narrow ; only capable of admitting one 
vehicle at a time. The positions of the gateways are also 
still to be discerned by grooves and other marks in the rock. 
The arx, or main citadel, has been supposed by most archae- 
ologists to have occupied the position of the modern hamlet 



172 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



of Isola Farnese, which is the most elevated part of the 
whole area, and nearly inclosed by the two streams flowing 
into the Due Fossi ; its precipitous sides having been cut 
away to form the sole road up to it. Sir William Gell, 
however, and Canina, the celebrated Italian archaeologist, 
place it at the western extremity. Both of these are strong 
positions, but it seems to me that the former is rather more 
so than the latter. Sir William Gell's theory of the exclu- 
sion of this part from the city on account of the tombs 
found excavated in its sides, neither the Etruscans nor the 
Romans being accustomed to bury their dead within their 
cities, has been generally rejected, since it is not likely that 
the Veientes would have allowed so impregnable a point in 
so close proximity to the city to be exposed to the occupa- 
tion of an enemy. 

Passing round the city by the mill before mentioned we 
come to the spot where were found the columns which now 
ornament the front of the post-office in the Piazza Colonna 
at Rome, and some others placed in the basilica of St. Paul 
outside the walls. It is conjectured that they formed a part 
of the Forum. Still farther, we arrive at the Ponte Sodo, a 
tunnelled cutting made through the rock in order to admit 
the passage of the river. Following the same direction, one 
of the finest known Etruscan tombs is to be seen excavated 
in the rock. It was discovered by Campana in eighteen 
hundred and forty-two, being left pretty much as it was found, 
some gold fillets only having been carried away from it. It is 
entered by a passage cut into the rock, guarded by two lions 
in marble : two more keep the door. The tomb consists of 
a double chamber, which is supposed to represent more or 
less accurately the form of an Etruscan house. The walls 
are painted in grotesque forms of men and animals, the roof 
being shaped into imitation beams and rafters. Vases and 
other vessels are set about, some of them painted with 
curious caricature figures. Most interesting of all, on shelves 
or couches cut in the rock on either side of the door, when it 
was first opened, lay a human skeleton, which the air soon 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENJE TO SCORANO. 



173 



crumbled into dust. One of them wore a helmet — there it 
lies yet — pierced by a lance-thrust ; doubtless the death- 
blow to him who wore it. It is strange that there was no 
name or indication in any part of the tomb which might 
attach a personality to these dusty children of oblivion, who 
must nevertheless have been of some distinction in their 
time. Remains of other sepulchres are found in its neigh- 
bourhood, which probably constituted the chief necropolis of 
the city. But, indeed, there are many of them in various 
parts of the outer city, some of which are utilised as sheep- 
cotes and cellars, on the ceilings of which can be generally 
discerned the form of beam and rafter which characterises 
these strange habitations of the dead. Passing onwards, 
fragments of the walls of the old city are seen here and there, 
consisting of huge blocks of tufa. A little farther we come 
to the remains of the Roman municipium or colony founded 
after the subjugation of Veii, which only covered a moiety 
of the site of the Etruscan city. Here were found colossal 
heads of Augustus and Tiberius, together with a large statue 
of the latter crowned with oak ; now in the Vatican museum. 
The Roman character of this part of the city is distinguish- 
able by the grey walls of some columbaria which rise out of 
the tangled brushwood, their empty recesses exposed to 
the full glare of the sun. These once contained the ashes 
of the dead, mourned over, wept over, prayed over ; but 
oblivion has long since sealed them his own, not even re- 
garding the pious D.M. that consigned them to the keeping 
of the divinities of the dead, nor leaving any record of where 
they are sown except the summer flowers which bloom from 
their dust. These grow in luxuriant beauty from every 
crevice, and lay their tender faces against the crumbling 
stone, as if witnesses of the frailty of humanity. 

It is perhaps no wonder that there should be so 
little of this city of three thousand years ago left to us. 
Propertius tells us that at the commencement of the Chris- 
tian era it was a half-obliterated ruin. " O, ancient Veii," 
he says, apostrophising it in the spirit of ancient times, 



174 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



" thou also wert then a city, and the golden chair of state 
was set within thy forum. Now within your walls the 
shepherd gently winds his horn and harvests are reaped 
among your bones."* Also Lucan tells us in the first 
Christian century, " All the name of Latium has become a 
fable ; hardly can the dust-covered ruins point out to us 
Gabii, Veii and Cora."f 

Previously to our journey up the river, Mr. Hemans and 
I had spent a few days at La Storta ; a little roadside inn, 
on the ancient Via Cassia, a short distance from Veii, which 
is now called Isola Farnese. The elevated position 
generally supposed to have been that of the citadel of the 
ancient city is now occupied by an old baronial mansion 
built in the fifteenth century by the Colonna family in their 
contentions with the Orsini. It is a dreary-looking tene- 
ment, and appears to be fast falling to decay. It is spotted 
with putlog holes, pierced with unglazed windows, and 
hung with forlorn wreaths of dark green ivy and a rank 
growth of pellitory-of-the-wall. It includes a large court 
which constitutes for the most part the modern hamlet, than 
which nothing can be more miserable. The houses are of 
the worst ever seen even in Italy, and they are shared 
by pigs, hens, and dogs. The misery and wretchedness of 
the place is oppressive. Just outside of the walls is a 
chapel, the service of which is supplied by some distant priest 
or friar in orders : and even the sanctuary of their religion, 
generally cared for more or less scrupulously, is here filled 
with the accumulated dust and dirt of years. The people 
seem to be living without a thought of anything better, in 
absolute ignorance, neglect and misery. 

* Et Veii veteres et vos turn regna fuistis, 

Et vestro posita est aurea sella foro. 
Nunc intra muros pastoris buccina lenti 

Cantat, et in vestris ossibus arva metunt. 

Lib. iv. el. 10. 

t Tunc omne Latinum 
Fabula nomen erit : Gabios, Veiosque, Coramque 
Pulvere vix tectae poterunt monstrare ruinas. 

Phar. vii. 391. 



175 



To go over the ground once occupied by this important 
city is almost like traversing a grave-yard. Where strong- 
holds arose and a powerful people found their dwelling 
the dog-rose and the red poppy bloom uncropped ; yellow 
broom grows where once have been streets and centres of 
business and gossip ; the wild fig splits the crumbling wall ; 
the untrained and wasted vine, whose ancestral grapes may 
have given heart to the Veientine soldier against his Roman 
foe, straggles hither and thither at will. As we forced our 
way through the tangled brushwood and over hillocks that 
marked the place of buried ruins, I saw a fox stealing by the 
woodside. The only sounds that met our ears were the cry 
of the quail, the shriek of the grasshopper, and the melody 
of the song bird undisturbed in these secluded regions ; but 
all seemed to be tinged with a melancholy tone, made 
sadder by the hoot of an owl, which from the recesses in the 
wood, forgetting his proper season in the gloom by which 
he was surrounded, awoke the sleeping sunshine of mid-day 
with a loud " to-whoo !" 

And yet one scarcely knew why it should have appeared so 
melancholy ; for it was beautiful — intensely beautiful. The 
feathery foliage clomb the steep bank, taking a silvery aureole 
from the sun ; larks were loud in the sky; the sound of falling 
waters came to us, murmuring pleasantly ; the earth opened 
its most brilliantly coloured flowers ; butterflies fluttered 
everywhere ; the rocky shelves were as green as garden 
terraces, whilst picturesque-looking maidens went down to 
the fountain with quaint pitchers balanced sidelong on their 
heads — the fountain a cool and mossy nook of flickering 
lights and shadows. But the past lay upon it all — the tale 
of glory departed — the harvest of time reaped in overgrown 
heaps of wasting stone and barren hillocks of nameless dust. 

Returning once more to the Tiber, and pursuing our way 
upwards, a little past Fidenae and on the same side of the 
river, the stream of the Allia flows into it. It is famous as 
marking the site of an important engagement between the 
Romans and the Gauls which took place upon its banks. 



i 7 6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



Up to about three hundred and sixty years from the 
foundation of the city of Rome, or three hundred and 
ninety years before the birth of Christ, the republic had 
been steadily increasing in power without having received 
any absolutely disastrous reverses ; but at this time, whether 
from the over-population of their own territory, or, as some 
say, the inducement of the wine, or for whatever other 
reason, Italy became overrun by the Gauls, a half-civilized, 
transalpine race, who poured upon the country, producing 
confusion and ruin wherever they passed. After having 
devastated many parts of north Italy, they reached so far 
south as Clusium, the modern Chiusi, a city of Etruria, be- 
tween Siena and Orvieto. Beset by an enemy so numerous 
and formidable, bearing strange arms and of unaccus- 
tomed aspect, the terrified Clusians sought to obtain the aid 
of Rome against their unknown foe. Negotiations with the 
Gauls were entered into ; but on their requiring land to be 
given to them for a colonial settlement, diplomacy was 
broken off with mutual reprisals, finally ending in an appeal 
to the sword. At once they started for Rome, without 
stopping to commit any depredations by the way. It was 
only at the eleventh milestone from the city, where the 
river Allia, descending from the Crustumerian hills in a very 
deep channel, joins the Tiber, not far from the road, that 
the Romans thought of opposing them. It would appear 
that they looked upon the circumstance with the most im- 
prudent indifference ; not regarding the large force of the 
enemy, nor their ardour in fighting, nor their desperate 
ferocity. The Roman army was drawn up in the face of 
the enemy, the reserves being placed on a small eminence 
at the right. The Gauls, instead of meeting the body of 
the army in the open plain, at once attacked the reserves and 
routed them, which had such an effect upon the other troops 
that they were seized with a panic, and at once took to flight 
almost without striking a blow, some of them swimming 
the Tiber and taking refuge even in the inimical Veii, some 
being drowned in its waters ; such of the rest who were 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENsE TO SCORANO. 



177 



fortunate enough to escape with their lives, hurrying to 
Rome the nearest way ; large numbers of slain being left 
on the field. The Romans and their allies in this fight 
numbered forty thousand, whilst their enemies counted as 
many as seventy thousand. 

At this sudden stroke of fortune the Gauls themselves 
wondered, and could hardly believe that it was not some 
feint on the part of the Romans to entrap them into further 
danger : but at last seeing that no one returned to molest 
them, they began to collect the arms and spoils of the slain 
and to think of going to Rome. 

Here the local narrative might terminate with the ghastly 
spectacle the round midsummer moon saw that night as it 
rose over the groaning plains, but it will be scarcely out of 
place to follow it a little further. 

On reaching Rome, which they did the same evening, 
the Gauls were still more amazed to find the gates left 
open, and no apparent preparation of defence made against 
them. Dreading an ambuscade, they encamped beneath 
the walls that night and the following day, endeavouring 
to frighten the inhabitants of the city by loud cries and 
discordant noises. The senate, seeing the imminence of the 
danger, withdrew the fighting population, together with 
what stores and munition could be procured, to the citadel 
of the Capitol, there entrenching themselves in the best 
manner they were able, leaving the non-warlike and the 
aged to do the best they could ; the latter, who themselves 
had borne honours and occupied important and elevated 
positions, consoling the people with their own Avillingness 
to suffer anything rather than that the whole city and 
nation should be destroyed. One may picture the misery 
and confusion of this moment : the entire population, 
including women and children, rushing about hither and 
thither ; the vestal virgins bearing away the sacred relics ; 
the ex-officials arranging themselves in the dignity of their 
disused robes and calmly awaiting the advent of the enemy. 
In the meantime the Gauls began to distribute themselves 

N 



178 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap VII. 



throughout the city, but with mistrust and timidity, afraid to 
enter even the open doors of the houses, and awed by the 
venerable and majestic figures of the aged patricians sitting 
In the porches of their palaces, until a Gaul, bolder than 
the rest, stretching forth his hand and stroking the white 
beard of one of them, as if to assure himself of his reality, 
was immediately struck with the ivory staff he held in his 
hand. This was the signal for an immediate slaughter. 
All suffered that came under the sword ; the houses were 
plundered and set on fire ; devastation and terror reigned 
everywhere. For several days the defenders of the citadel 
watched the burning of their houses and the slaughter of 
their wives and children with distracted hearts, but still 
maintained their guard manfully, and when at last the 
Gauls, wearied with the work of destruction, attacked the 
citadel itself, they were defeated with dreadful losses ; so 
that they dared not repeat the attempt. Neither, indeed, 
durst the Romans emerge to fight in the open. Thus 
worsted, and much in want of supplies, the Gallic army 
divided itself ; the one half remaining to besiege the citadel, 
and the other roaming the surrounding country in search of 
plunder. 

Now it happened in the course of this marauding ex- 
pedition that amongst other places they lighted on the 
city of Ardea, the capital of the Rutulian territory, not far 
from the sea-coast, about twenty miles south of Rome, to 
which place Camillus had been driven under the accusation 
of having personally appropriated certain Etruscan spoils, 
but really for his humanity and justice towards the con- 
quered Falisci, whose city he would not allow to be sacked. 
Fired with the indignities his people were suffering, and 
magnanimously forgetful of his own wrongs, the exiled 
hero strove to incite the Ardeates to emulate the prowess 
of Rome, and build up to themselves an honourable name 
by rescuing it from its present dire calamities. His appeal 
was not disregarded. Issuing from the gates at night 
under his direction they found the Gallic troops lying in 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENjE TO SCORANO. 



179 



unguarded sleep, gorged with wine and victuals, the fruits 
of spoliation and pillage. Attacking them thus, supine and 
defenceless, they were very easily defeated, fleeing to all 
parts of the surrounding country, some to Antium, where 
they were cut off from their comrades and slaughtered by 
the inhabitants ; others to the Veientine territory : these, 
however, being not only unmolested but succoured by the 
Veientes, w T ho took the opportunity of revenging themselves 
on Rome in this its sore extremity, attacking the Ardeian 
troops, and then returning to Veii with much satisfaction 
and a great deal of noisy rejoicing. 

But when the Romans who had fled from the battle of 
the Allia and were now detained as prisoners in Veii heard 
of the success which Camillus had had against the Gauls, 
they began greatly to bewail their own and their fellow- 
citizens' folly in having banished so able a general and 
upright a man from Rome, lamenting that he was not once 
more at their head, when they felt assured that a master- 
stroke might be made in their favour. Their desire was 
not allowed to waste itself in idle complaints. They 
contrived means to have a proposition conveyed to Camillus 
that he should place himself at their head as commander. 
He, however, refused to undertake the office excepting by 
special appointment of the senate of Rome. In this 
difficulty a young man named Pontius Cominius came 
forward, proffering his services to go to Rome to obtain it. 
Disguising himself as a peasant, on arriving at the gates he 
cast himself into the river, sustained by corks, and swim 
ming to the Capitol, climbed up the steep side of it with 
great difficulty, and then, after stating his errand and 
witnessing the appointment of Camillus as dictator, returned 
in the same manner. 

In the morning some Gauls passing round the base of 
the Capitol saw traces of footmarks, and after proving the 
practicability of the ascent, a party was organised to attempt 
the citadel on the following night. Already had they 
reached the summit without any alarm, when the sacred 

N 2 



i8o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII 



geese kept at the temple of Juno, prowling about half- 
starved, hissing and cackling, awoke the whole camp, who, 
falling upon the Gauls, quickly routed them, killing some 
and throwing others down the rock. 

In the meantime Camillus busied himself in organisms: 
his army, matters growing worse and worse with the 
Romans. Famine looked them in the face and sickness 
and weakness seized them for a prey. Neither were the 
besiegers much better off. The burnt and burning ashes 
of the houses blown into their camp almost suffocated 
them, fever raged in their midst ; so dreadful, indeed, was 
the mortality on this occasion that the heaped remains of 
their dead, after being partially consumed by fire, remained 
in the form of a large mound which subsequently gave a 
name to that part of the city. 

At last, when endurance could hold out no longer on 
either side, an armistice was proposed and arrangements 
for peace entered upon. The Gauls demanded a thousand 
pounds weight of gold as requisition. As it was being 
weighed it was found that the besiegers had furnished false 
weights for the purpose. On the Romans remonstrating 
against this perfidy it is said that Brennus the Gallic chief 
scornfully flung his sword into the balance, proclaiming, 
"Woe to the vanquished." At this precise juncture, 
Camillus and his troops arrived on the scene. Camillus 
immediately seized the gold in the scales and handed it to 
the senators, saying that Rome was accustomed to redeem 
itself with iron and not with gold. When told that he was 
breaking a compact already concluded, he replied that he 
alone by right of his office of dictator had power to enter 
upon such an engagement, and that by his permission it 
had never been made. A sharp conflict immediately ensued 
in which the Gauls suffered severe losses, decamping the 
same night and leaving the city. The next morning 
Camillus followed and routed the invaders, whose destruc- 
tion was completed by the peasants and other inhabitants 
of the surrounding country, who all rose up against them. 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENsE TO S CORA NO. 



181 



Livy says that Camillus saved Rome twice in dissuading 
the inhabitants from abandoning it altogether for Veii after 
this terrible invasion. 

Near this spot was also fought a subsequent battle 
between the Romans and the inhabitants of Prseneste, in 
which the latter were defeated. 

A little distance past the junction of the Cremera with 
the Tiber, somewhat removed from the left bank, is the 
villa of Livia, the dignified and matronly wife of Augustus. 
Her real character is almost as inscrutable as was that of 
her imperial husband. It is thus given by the historian 
Tacitus. " In her domestic deportment she was formed 
after the model of primitive sanctity, but with more affa- 
bility than was allowed by ladies of old : as a mother 
zealous and determined ; as a wife kind and indulgent ; 
well adapted to the fastidious and complex character of 
her husband, and the subtle nature of her son " [Tiberius]. 
Doubtless here she spent many hours of pleasant leisure in 
the company of Augustus in his holiday retirements from 
the cares of state. It is within easy reach of Rome, about 
seven miles from the Flaminian Gate. The place was called 
Prima Porta, being the first halting-place from Rome : nine 
miles distant from the Golden Milestone at the foot of the 
Capitol. Suetonius gives a whimsical story of the original 
foundation of this villa in his life of Galba. He says that 
soon after her marriage with Augustus, Livia once went to 
visit this estate, situated in the Veientine territory, when an 
eagle let fall a white chicken into her lap, carrying a sprig 
of laurel in its mouth. She planted the laurel, which grew 
and flourished. From the progeny of this sprig the crowns 
of the Caesars were subsequently woven for festivals, its 
growth corresponding with their welfare. The fowl, too, 
was prolific. Dion Cassius says that the death of Nero, 
who was the last of the Augustan race descended from 
^Eneas, was presaged by the withering away of the laurels, 
and the extinction of the race of fowls. 

When H. and I visited this place from Rome, whilst 



182 



THE PILGRIMAGE OE THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



we were reposing in the osteria after a warm walk, we sent 
to inquire if we could have the key to inspect the villa, 
which was in the keeping of the parish priest. Presently 
the messenger came back to say that the priest was ill in 
bed, and that we could not have the key. Upon this we 
went ourselves to the house where he lived. The door was 
opened by a girl, who began to tell the same story. The 
priest, however, hearing our voices, made his appearance 
fully dressed, at the top of the stairs, and said that there 
had been some Germans there a few days before, who 
would only give half a franc for having the door of the villa 
opened. " Now," he said, " it is a very unreasonable thing 
that a person should go into those damp chambers and 
take a fever for so small a consideration as half a franc." 
H. and I both agreed that it was highly unreasonable 
under the circumstances ; and promising to satisfy the 
bearer of the key with a sufficient donation, a man was 
sent to accompany us. 

At present there is but a small portion of the villa 
excavated. On the walls of one of the chambers, thickly 
leaved branches, intermingled with fruit and flowers and 
birds, are painted in distemper. They are executed with 
much spirit and power from a realistic point of view, so as 
to form a very refreshing and beautiful series of objects for 
the eye to rest upon. Many valuable works of art were 
found here, the most important of which was the fine 
statue of Augustus now forming one of the treasures of the 
Vatican museum. The villa stands upon an eminence 
commanding a charming view of the surrounding country. 
At its foot the river winds through green banks bordered 
with delicate foliage. Beyond are seen the bare slopes of 
Antemnse, and more to the north the solitary old feudal 
tenement that marks the site of Fidenae, standing where once 
the formidable Acropolis shone in the light of the morn- 
ing sun, or burned like a flame in the glow of the evening 
red. On the other side, the Via Flaminia wanders towards 
Rome under the bare, blank bluffs of the Saxa Rubra. 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENJE TO SCO RAN O. 



About two miles beyond Fidenae, on the same side of the 
river, is a group of farm-buildings, bearing the name of 
Marcigliana, which look more like some sturdy mediaeval 
fortress than the centre of quiet agricultural labour. They 
are situated at a considerable elevation, and inclose a 
spacious court, whose grass-grown pavement and wasted 
walls give an eery aspect of desolation to the place. It has 
been surmised that the ancient Latian city, Crustumerium, 
once occupied this height. It is true that Sir William Gell 
and some others have fixed upon Monte Rotondo as being 
the more probable site ; but the proximity of that town to 
Mentana, the undoubted position of the ancient Nomentum, 
and its more remote distance from the river, have caused 
other archaeologists to give this the preference. Besides, 
Kircher, in his Latium Vetus, published in sixteen hundred 
and seventy, says that it was noticeable for its remains of 
ancient edifices, and though few or no traces of these are 
left, they may have been used in the fabrication of the 
building which now occupies the summit. 

Crustumerium was one of the most ancient cities of 
Latium, said to have been founded by the Alban king 
Silvius Latinus, who opposed ^Eneas on his first arrival in 
that part of Italy. It is mentioned by Virgil as one of the 
first cities which forged arms for the war.* The Latin 
poet Silius Italicus speaks of it as being of later origin 
than Antemnae.t It is first heard of in history as being 
one of the allies against Romulus after the rape of the 
Sabine women, when it was conquered by him, and made a 
Roman colony. It scarcely appears to have had an inde- 
pendent existence afterwards, and probably soon fell into 
decay, since it is mentioned by Pliny as one of the- extinct 
cities of Latium. It, however, gave the name to a district 
and to a Roman tribe. Its territory was very fruitful, rich 

* Quinque adeo magnae positis incudibus urbes 
Tela novant, Atina potens, Tiburque superbum, 
Ardea, Crustumerique, et turrigerae Antemnae. JEn. vii. 631. 

f Antemnaque prisco 
Crustumio prior. 



1 84 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



in corn, and famous for its pears. It sent supplies of the 
former in boats to Rome during a famine, which being 
detained and pillaged by the Fidenates, caused the Romans 
to make their first war against them. 

Marcigliana is a large farm, chiefly dairy. The agricultural 
implements lying about could not have been simpler or 
ruder if they had belonged to the days of Virgil. So 
unprogressive is the Italian mind, so indifferent or incapable 
in all arts of contrivance, that as we were going by one of 
the outbuildings, we saw some men actually making butter 
in large mugs by stirring the cream about with unwashed 
hands. This was not, it must be recollected, at a mountain 
hovel, where a miserable cow might eke out the scant 
subsistence of a few poverty-stricken wretches shut out 
from intercourse with the rest of the world, but on one of 
the largest farms of the Campagna, almost within sight of 
the walls of Rome, belonging, I believe, to one of its noblest 
families, and managed, I suppose, by the professed mercante 
di Campagna. Amidst such a condition of things, of which 
this is only a sample, one would naturally ask, what is the 
meaning of the word proprietorship in Italy, or if such a 
term as Useful Arts is to be found in their dictionary. 

From Marcigliana, the river-country presents soft, well- 
wooded slopes, whose delicately-pencilled outlines, changing 
every moment in the upward passage of the stream, undergo 
a thousand variations, each more beautiful than the other. 
The banks are fired with yellow broom. The tortuous 
sweeps of the river present broad flat surfaces to the sky, 
mingling its reflected azure with the hue of its yellow waters. 
Long-horned cattle stand upon the banks, gazing curiously. 
One turn after another goes by, until we reach the mediaeval 
town of Monte Rotondo. 

Monte Rotondo is about fifteen miles from Rome. It 
offers no particular point of interest excepting its picturesque 
situation and old baronial residence, so large in its propor- 
tions as to appear to compose a considerable part of the 
town. It would seem that the lord of the manor in Italy 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENsE TO SCORANO. 



185 



always considered himself bound to raise a huge pile of 
buildings on his territory, dignified by the name of palace, 
as an evidence of, and testimony to, his title of possession, 
afterwards to be allowed to fall into decay, a tenement for 
owls and rats. We are accustomed in England to associate 
such residences with the occupation of the owners for at 
least a part of the year, and to see them surrounded with 
some little tokens of care for the tenantry and neighbours. 
Here it is different. A landlord scarcely ever delights in 
the improvement of his estate, but simply sets it under a 
management interesting and curious as a relic of mediaeval 
practice, being content to receive the emolument from it 
without further trouble. There are not the least indications 
of the slightest care or attention bestowed on dependents in 
the neighbourhood of such central mansions. Often enough 
their courts are the dirtiest parts of the whole town, and 
the beggar sits on their door-steps. It is pitiable, where so 
much that is required might be done, to see nothing what- 
ever attempted. Perhaps the friar of a neighbouring con- 
vent may give some desultory instruction to the miserable 
people, himself scarcely less unlearned ; but by those who 
ought to take an interest in the welfare of their fellow- 
creatures, from whom they reap the means to live above 
the fatigues of labour, nothing whatever appears to be done. 
No legislation nor any appointed system of public educa- 
tion can compensate for the social defect of the mutual 
influences of the classes. It is not in the least the result 
of pride or superciliousness. These are quite unknown in 
Italy as they exist in England. It is pure indifference. 
There is money in Italy, there is time in Italy, there is 
good sound common sense and plenty of good feeling in 
Italy ; but who shall arouse the Italian mind from the 
apathy and indifference in regard to social elevation in 
which it lies ? Who shall show it that the most ignoble 
slavery may subsist beneath the very flag of Freedom — the 
slavery of Ignorance, Dirt, and Idleness ? Well, indeed, 
has the wise Massimo d'Azeglio said, the enemies of Italy 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



have not been those of Austria and France, but rather 
those within her own shores, and in her own bosom. A 
natural politeness, that crowning grace of Christian breed- 
ing, a sweetness of manner and amiability of disposition 
beyond parallel in any of the nations of Europe with which 
I am acquainted, a kindliness and warmth of feeling quite 
exemplary, a sharpness and aptitude of perception and 
judgment often enough reaching to a very large wisdom, 
make the absence of energy and enthusiasm in what is true 
and right, the want of thoroughness, transparency, and self- 
respect, all the more bitterly felt and keenly regretted. This 
regret becomes a wonder when one remembers such names 
as Carlo Borromeo, Gregory the Great, Savonarola, Arnoldo 
di Brescia and a few others of more modern times, to whom 
a pure and energetic individual life and the enlargement 
and elevation of the human race were the crown and aim 
of all their desires and labours. To every philanthropist it 
must be a matter of deep pain to see how much young 
Italy has in its power : how little it uses its capabilities and 
opportunities in living in and teaching the great law that the 
only way to moral and social elevation and national great- 
ness lies in an absolutely ruling and entirely uncompromis- 
ing personal self-respect — a love of right for right's sake 
and of truth because it is true. 

This is a digression ; but Monte Rotondo must be 
answerable for the delinquency. It unavoidably points to 
some such reflections. They belong to it as much as its 
history, although it is by no means unique in the charac- 
teristics here dwelt upon. 

Its history is not a remarkable one, though eventful 
enough. The town is first mentioned in a papal bull of 
the year one thousand and seventy-four. It went through 
the usual mediaeval sieges, burnings and outrages. It was 
closely implicated in the quarrels of the Orsini and 
Colonni — those public brawlers of the middle ages — of the 
former of whom it was a stronghold ; and thence, after 
several changes, passed under the rule of the Church. It 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENsE TO SCO RANG. 



187 



was between here and Mentana that the conflict between 
the papal troops, assisted by the French, and the Gari- 
baldians took place in eighteen hundred and sixty-seven, 
when the latter were defeated. The baronial palace of the 
Orsini mentioned above is a fine example of the ancient 
fortified mansion of more disturbed times. It is sur- 
mounted by a lofty square tower, overlooking a vast 
extent of the Campagna ; its old turrets and walls 
crumbling to decay with damp and neglect. 

Somewhat more than a mile to the south-west of Monte 
Rotondo is Mentana, the ancient Nomentum. Dionysius 
says that it was founded at the same time with Crus- 
tumerium and Fidense. Virgil, also, in the meeting of 
^Eneas with his father in the Elysian fields makes Anchises 
say, " What youths are there ! See what mighty vigour 
they display, and bear brows shaded with the civic oak ! 
These for your posterity shall build Nomentum, and Gabii, 
and the city of Fidenae."* Thus it may be considered to 
have been one of the earliest colonial cities founded by the 
Alban kings. It was subjected to Rome by Tarquinius 
Priscus ; but afterwards joined the cities of the Latin 
League (of which there were thirty, including this), in the 
endeavour to reinstate the banished Tarquins on the 
throne of Rome. It is the only one of those ancient cities 
still left inhabited. Once, when Rome was hard beset 
with pestilence, and many earthquakes had occurred to 
affright and dispirit the inhabitants, its old enemies 
seized the opportunity of making incursions into its 
territory, committing great depredations. Aulus Servilius 
being appointed dictator, called all those to arms who were 
able to bear them ; and attacking the Etrurians on the 
high ground of Nomentum, routed them and drove them 
into the city of Fidense, which resulted in its final capture 

* Qui juvenes quantas ostentant, aspice, vires ! 
At, qui umbrata gerunt civili tempora quercu, 
Hi tibi Nomentum, et Gabios, urbemque Fidenam, 
Hi Gollatinas imponent montibus arces. 

/En. vi. 771. 



188 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



by means of a mine, as already related. It finds no 
mention in the later periods of history. It is, however, 
frequently named by classical writers. Strabo alludes to 
it as the " small city of Nomentum." Ovid, at the end of 
the fourth book of the Fasti, describes a curious procession 
of persons arrayed in white that he met as he was re- 
turning from the city, who with, great ceremony were 
going to offer the entrails of a dog to the dog-star in 
propitiation for a blight at that time ravaging the produce 
of the fields. It is several times mentioned by Martial. 
" Do you ask me what profit my Nomentum estate brings 
me, Linus ?" he asks, with biting sarcasm, either in joke or 
in earnest. " My estate brings me this profit — that I do 
not see you, Linus."* He gives a pleasant picture of its 
rurality and retirement in another of his pieces addressed 
to Castricus at the voluptuous seaside town of Baiae. 
"Whilst happy Baiae, Castricus," he says, "is showering its 
favours upon you, and its fair nymph receives you to swim 
in its sulphureous waters, I am strengthened by the repose 
of my Nomentan farm in a cottage which gives me no 
trouble with its numerous acres. Here is my Baian sun- 
shine and the sweet Lucrine lake ; here have I, Castricus, 
all such riches as you are enjoying. Time was when I 
betook myself at pleasure to any of the far-famed watering- 
places, and felt no apprehension of long journeys. Now 
spots near town and retreats of easy access are my delight ; 
and I am content if permitted to be idle."fy Seneca also 
had a villa here. It had a fertile and productive territory, 
much famed for its wines ; a characteristic which it still 
preserves. 

In mediaeval times it is noticeable from its having been 
the meeting-place of Charlemagne and Pope Leo the Third, 
accompanied by the senate of Rome, in the year eight 

* Quid mihi reddat ager quaeris, Line, Nomentanus r 
Hoc mihi reddit ager : te, Line, non video. 

Ep. ii. 38. 

t Ep. vi. 43. 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDEXsE TO SCORANO. 189 



hundred, when the former went to receive the imperial 
crown in that city. This meeting was celebrated by a 
sumptuous feast, combining all the profusion, pomp and 
splendour which characterised such occasions in former 
times. The ceremonial of his subsequent coronation at 
Rome is thus described by Gibbon : 

" In his fourth and last pilgrimage, he was received at 
Rome with the due honours of king and patrician . . . . . 
On the festival of Christmas, the last year of the eighth 
century, Charlemagne appeared in the church of St. Peter ; 
and to gratify the vanity of Rome, he had exchanged the 
simple dress of his country for the habit of a patrician. 
After the celebration of the holy mysteries, Leo suddenly 
placed a precious crown on his head, and the dome re- 
sounded with the shouts of the people, ' Long life and 
victory to Charles the most pious Augustus, crowned by 
God the great and pacific emperor of the Romans !' The 
head and body of Charlemagne were consecrated by the 
royal unction ; after the example of the Caesars, he was 
saluted or adored by the pontiff; his coronation oath repre- 
sents a promise to maintain the faith and privileges of the 
Church ; and the first-fruits were paid in his rich offerings 
to the shrine of the apostle. In his familiar conversation 
the emperor protested he was ignorant of the intentions of 
Leo, or he would have disappointed them on that memorable 
day. But the preparations for the ceremony must have 
disclosed the secret ; and the journey of Charlemagne 
reveals his knowledge and expectation. He had acknow- 
ledged that the imperial title was the object of his am- 
bition, and a Roman synod had pronounced that it was 
the only adequate reward of his merits and services*."* 

Here was born the famous Crescenzio Nomentano, who for 
some time ruled the destinies of Rome during his occupa- 
tion of the fortress of St. Angelo, as already mentioned. 

The modern Mentana is a miserable little town, con- 
sisting of one long street. Its mediaeval castle still frowns 
* Dec. and Fall, chap. 49. 



I9Q- THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VII. 



at one end of it, shorn of its warlike character, hanging out 
forlorn flags of surrender to all-conquering Time in the 
shape of tattered fronds of maidenhair and other parasitic 
plants that find an undisturbed rooting on its walls. Some 
old sarcophagi reversed, with the inscriptions still legible, 
form seats under the church tower for evening gossipers. 
A few fragments of old marbles are here and there built 
into the walls or reared against them ; but no recording 
monument remains to testify of its former importance. 

Whilst we were passing along the street, we met a 
benevolent-looking priest, who seemed to be the essence of 
geniality and blandness, friendly smiles beaming all over 
his face. He appeared to be on such terms of good-nature 
with his parishioners that he might have been a sort of 
Vicar of Wakefield in his little territory. As we stopped 
to sketch the old castle, a little boy came and stood 
beside us, whom I began to question as to his education. 
He said he knew almost nothing, and that there was 
no school in the place. " But," I said, a does not the 
good father priest whom I saw in the street teach you 
anything ?" " When he first came," he said, " he tried very 
hard to do so ; but we were all so stupid we could not 
learn anything whatever, so he gave it up." " And how 
does he occupy himself now ?" I asked. " Now," said the 
boy, " he goes to sleep." 

The highest navigable point of the river at present, for 
large vessels is at a place called Scorano, which is about 
twenty miles from Rome by land, and five and thirty by 
the river. It is represented by a wide undulating plain, 
marked by a few of the conical shepherds' huts which form 
so characteristic an object on the Campagna. Once there was 
a regular boat service as far as Ponte Felice ; but since the 
opening of the railway the river has been allowed to fall into 
neglect, so that what little traffic there is beyond Scorano has 
to be carried on by means of small boats dragged by buffaloes. 

As our vessel laboured and panted up the stream with 
its string of barges behind it the day began to wane. The 



Chap. VII. FROM FIDENjE TO SCO RAN O. 



IQI 



mountains clothed in their purple hues seemed to be removed 
to another world of unearthly splendour. The banks of 
the river were dashed with glowing streaks of crimson as if 
spilt with ruby-coloured wine. One by one the birds retired 
to rest, all but the nightingale, who continued his sweet 
strain into the night. A glassy calm settled on the river 
except for the tortuous vortices that vexed its liquid surface, 
shattering the pale reflection of the crescent moon, which 
with the first star of evening came out in the sky. Soon 
the mighty constellations began to wheel and burn above 
us. The fitful firefly glanced in and out amongst the 
bushes as the dews began to fall. When the daylight was 
quite gone the prow of the vessel was thrust into the bushes 
of a little bay, and soon a deep silence reigned around only 
broken now and then by the hooting owl as he mixed 
his note with the sovereign nightingale, the croak of a frog ; 
or the distant cry of the cicala, whilst the gliding water 
gave a thin faint murmur from time to time, as if whisper- 
ing in a dream. It was long before I could tear myself 
away from the prospect. The vast Campagna was spread 
in solemn gloom around. Those very stars lighted it in 
the days of its olden glory. I watched the solitary lamp 
of a far-off tenitta as it glimmered through the night. A 
wood-laden bark floated slowly down the stream with a 
blazing fire at its stern to light its wandering way. When 
it had vanished in the windings of the river, I too, rolling my- 
self in a rug in the cabin, was soon involved in a deep sleep. 

I was wakened at the first streak of dawn by a bird in 
the bushes, which must have sat close to my ear, though I 
did not see him. First a little broken chirrup, and then a 
full tide of flowing, gurgling song, as if his heart had been 
burthened with music and it had overflowed in a joyous 
melody. Note after note came pouring out of his mellow bill, 
till the cabin seemed filled with his warbling. I arose with a 
sense of chilliness, noticing for the first time that all the 
apertures of the cabin had been left unclosed. I went on 
deck. One by one the sleepy crew mustered. The hollows 



192 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 



of the Campagna were hid in mist, out of which here and 
there peeped a conical shepherd's hut. The river presented 
a very remarkable spectacle. It was covered with wreaths 
or pillars of mist, which stood in compacted forms on the 
surface of the water like spirits of the night surprised by 
the coming of day. Presently, as some insensible air was 
breathed about them, they began to move slowly up and 
down, sometimes approaching each other as if to whisper 
mysterious secrets, then gliding along in crowds, but with- 
out breaking or intermingling their forms ; then they would 
appear to be animated with the slow movements of a 
solemn dance, bending and wavering, turning leisurely by 
the bushes on the banks. Soon some large boats began to 
loom through their substance, bringing to mind the spectral 
vessels that bear the death-freed souls across the fabled 
Styx or Acheron. But now our vessel began to pant and 
groan, and being liberated from the moorings, we were soon 
steaming rapidly down the river. I stood on the captain's 
deck chilled with cold, straining my eyes uneasily in the 
direction of sunrise. As it grew redder and redder the lark 
flew up into the sky singing loudly. Soon a golden rim 
rose above the mountain tops and the silent beams glided 
along the pearly plain, bringing a new day to the world, so 
brilliant, so glorious, that one longed to run to every 
sleeper and wake him with the tidings that the sun had 
risen. 

Our downward journey was enlivened by a very interest- 
ing conversation with an assistant engineer or stoker on the 
vessel, whose services were not required below. He was 
full of intelligence, looked hopefully to the future of Italy, 
reasoning soundly upon matters of national progress and 
personal development, in a manner that would have done 
honour to any social institute in England. 

In two hours we accomplished what had taken us a long 
day in the upward course of the stream ; and Rome had 
scarcely risen from its bed when we found ourselves once 
more landed on the steps of the Ripetta. 



Chap. VIII. 



( 193 ) 



CHAPTER VIII. 

POPULAR SONGS OF THE TIBERINE DISTRICT. 

I PURPOSE here to interrupt the course of our journey 
for the length of a chapter in order to give my readers 
some account of a little-known class of literature (if that 
may be called literature which has been composed in a 
great measure without the use of letters, and is only now 
imperfectly in print), the popular songs of the people of 
Italy inhabiting the region of the Tiber : beginning 
with the Campagna of Rome and ending with those of 
Umbria. 

It is a thing hardly to be believed that in the heart of a 
rude and uncultivated peasantry, incapable, for the most 
part, of either reading or Writing, there should exist one of 
the noblest and purest fountains of lyrical inspiration and 
composition, a faculty so delicate and refined as very often 
to produce, I will not say rivals to Horace and Catullus, 
but something which often matches them, in subtlety of 
rendering, in neatness of form and finish, breathing a 
fragrance and delicacy of sentiment quite unknown to their 
time and age. By far the greater part of these are on the 
universal subject : they are love songs ; they treat of lovers' 
joys and lovers' woes, with old tales of devotion and insepa- 
rable attachment. One of their most remarkable features 
is their thorough wholesomeness and purity. They are 
darkened by no shade of coarseness, nor by any touch of 
sensuality. They are pure as the sunshine, the wind, the 
fresh flowers — as the simple affections of which they are 

O 



194 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII 



the offspring. They reflect no traces of bad passions, they 
harbour no brood of dissoluteness or vice ; they are without 
affectation, prudery, or license, bird-like and self-unconscious 
in their utterance, as such songs should be. Many of them 
embalm the relics of knightly chivalry, in which the beloved 
one is addressed as dama (or dame) and the lover is called 
servente amoroso (loving servant). It is from the mountainous 
districts that these sweet songs have emanated in their 
purest form, and in which they have been best preserved : 
where the invader has seldom come, and where robust 
habits and a remote locality have placed the people out of 
the reach of social corruptions and depreciating tendencies. 
There is a perceptible difference between the language of 
the mountains and that of the plains ; the latter being 
mixed with Gallic phrases or corrupted by Spanish in- 
fluences. The same holds good also of the moral tone of 
the people and their compositions, the former being loftier, 
purer, and distinguished by a higher social sentiment and 
a more domestic character. Even where these verses 
contain technical defects of construction they breathe a 
music and fitness of sound to sense, and embody an artless 
grace of expression often denied to culture and more 
elaborate literary means. Sometimes they are jocular, 
sometimes smart, sometimes homely, sad, or sorrowful, 
as suits the humour of the composer. Many of them 
might have been written by Dante or his friend Cino 
da Pistoia. They are full of allusions to natural things. 
The stars, winds, birds, fruits, or flowers, furnish inexhaust- 
ible images, and are frequently personified to symbolize the 
sentiments of the composer. Here is one in which the 
lover apostrophizes his mistress's affection under the emblem 
of a dove. 

Vola, palomba, quanto puoi volare, 
Salisci in alto quanto puoi salire, 
Gira lo mondo quanto puoi girare: 
Un giorno alle mie mani hai da venire.* 



* This and several others here quoted are from the ' Ganti Popolari 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



195 



Which may be translated : 

Fly, fly, wild dove, as far as thou canst go; 

Rise in the air as high, as high can be; 
Sweep round the world wherever winds may blow: 

One day, where'er thou go, thou must return to me. 

Here is another of a similar order, full of exquisite 
symbolism. 

Un garofano ho visto da una banda, 
D all' altra parte un generoso fiore ; 
E passa il vostro amore, e mi domanda : 
Chi ha donato a voi questo bel fiore ? 
Rispondo: E nato nel giardin dell' alma, 
Dove si leva la spera del sole: 
Dove si leva e dove si riposa ; 
Voltati verso me, Candida rosa: 
Dove si leva e dove si ripone; 
Voltati verso me, candido fiore. 

For which the English reader must accept this. 

A pink opens out on one hand, * • 

On the other an exquisite flower; 
And your love passing by doth demand, 

Who gave you this beautiful flower ? 
I reply, It was born in the land 

Of the soul, where the sun rules the hour — 
Where he rises and sinks to repose — 
Turn towards me, immaculate rose — 
Where he rises and where he reposes — 
Turn towards me, pure rose of all roses. 

Almost all of the Tuscan songs are love songs, partly 
based upon Latin traditions ; possibly some of them may 
have even retained an Etruscan character. They have 
however been largely influenced by the troubadour element 



Toscani,' collected and annotated by Giuseppe Tigri, and published at 
Florence by Barbera. I am also further indebted for some of the infor- 
mation conveyed in this chapter to his introductory essay attached to the 
same. It will be needless to point out to the reader of the Italian language 
the little peculiarities of dialect here and there made use of, as their 
meaning is always apparent. 

O 2 



196 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, when every one 
used " sweet and airy rhymes of love ;" doubtless many of 
them had their origin at that time. They follow endless 
modulations and modifications ; so that the same song is 
often reproduced, wholly or in part, in divers forms ; but 
their main traits are never lost : they are always subtle and 
delicate, reflecting the manifold aspects and idiosyncrasies 
of the various minstrels by whom they are adapted. 

As regards the tunes or chants to which these songs are 
sung I cannot give a very definite account. They are all 
in a minor key, of course, as the music of nature always, 
or nearly always is ; their rhythm very difficult to make 
out ; many of them giving the idea of the wail of some 
wild bird or animal more than the ordered melody of the 
human voice. They are probably to be resolved into a 
few and very simple elements originating in remote ages, 
it may be in the days of Catullus and Virgil, or even earlier 
still. 

The songs of the Campagna and region about Rome 
possess distinctive characteristics. They are almost invari- 
ably composed of eight lines or verses, of eleven syllables 
each, rhymed alternately, the first two lines generally con- 
taining some picturesque conceit to seize the attention, 
which is repeated at the end of the song. In these songs 
the people embalm their most sacred emotions, showing the 
greatest unwillingness to expose them to strangers. Visconti 
(who was one of the first collectors of these little lyrics) had 
much difficulty in persuading them to repeat them to him. 
In some cases he failed altogether, and in others they were 
not able to do it excepting by singing. It is to the intrinsic 
and personal nature of these songs that Visconti attributes 
their nerve and force ; being usually composed for a special 
end without any reference to a wider appeal, just as a love- 
letter might be. Though they sometimes contain archa- 
isms, yet they are always composed with great purity of 
diction and without the least vulgarity. What neatly- 
turned strain of Tasso or other most cultivated Italian 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



197 



poet, for instance, could be more exquisite than this charm- 
ing little lyric ? 

Rosa gentil nel giardin d'Amore, 

Vaga comparsa tra verdi foglie, 
II tuo purpureo e candido colore 

Luce da 1' occhi e pace a 1' alma toglie ; 
Intorni spandi si soave odore, 

Ch'ogni maggiore piacere in se raccoglie; 
Punto da le tue spine questo core 

Di dolor morira se non ti coglie : 
Rosa gentil, che nel giardin d'Amore 

Vaga comparsa fai tra verdi foglie.* 

Which may be thus rendered into English. 

Dainty sweet Rose, who in Love's garden-ground 

Amidst green leaves thy face dost half reveal, 
Thy white and red in subtle mixture bound, 

Light from the eye, peace from the soul do steal: 
Such tender odour thou dost scatter round, 

That every joy in thee hath end and seal; 
This heart must die pierced by thy thorn's sharp wound, 

If thy ungathered balms refuse to heal : 
Dainty sweet Rose, who in Love's garden-ground 

Amidst green leaves thy face dost half reveal. 

There is another characteristic of these songs of the 
Campagna I believe quite peculiar to them. It is that all 
the lines have very often the same terminal consonant, the 
variation of the rhymes being got by a simple change of 
the penultimate vowel, by which a very smooth and 
flowing effect is obtained. Here is a sample of this kind of 
composition. 

Lucentissima stella mattutina, 

Vaga ninfa d' Amore, dea serena, 
Non ci passa ne sera ne mattina, 

Che non rimira la bellezza tena ; 



* This and several of the following songs are taken from a little 
brochure entitled " Saggio de' Canti Popolari della Provincia di Marittima 
e Campagna," by the late Commendatore P. E. Visconti. It was printed 
in Rome in eighteen hundred and thirty, but is now very rare, and difficult 
to be met with. 



198 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII- 



Chi la rimira sa faccia divina 

L' aria se ce va nuvola serena ; 
Quando esce lo sole a lei s' inchina, 

Credendo che ce sia la Maddalena : 
Lucentissima stella mattutina, 

Vaga ninfa d'Amore, dea serena. 

It will be seen that in these verses the penultimate 
syllable has only been changed throughout in one par- 
ticular. I have indicated it in the following translation ; 
though, of course, it would be impossible to follow it 
accurately in the English language. 

Clear morning star, whose beams do brightly shine, 

Sweet nymph of Love, divinity serene, 
No morn or eve may meet these eyes of mine, 

Wherein thy fair-like beauty is not seen : 
Who sees thy face beholds a face divine, 

Makes heaven of every sullen vapour clean ; 
The rising sun to thee doth first incline, 

Believing thee the beauteous Magdalene : 
Clear morning star, whose beams do brightly shine, 

Sweet nymph of Love, divinity serene. 

Here is another, containing a lover's protestation worth 
transcribing. 

Prima ch'io lasci te, gentil signora, 

I duri sassi si faranno cera, 
Madre dell' ombre diverra Y aurora, 

II mezzogiorno sonera la sera, 
Saranno il foco e l'acqua uniti ancora, 

Eterna durera la primavera ; 
I nostri amori finiranno allora 

Quando '1 mondo ritorni a quel che era. 
Prima ch'io lasci te, gentil signora, 

I duri sassi si faranno cera. 

Ere I do leave thee, gentle lady bright, 

The solid stones shall melt like wax away, 
The mother of shadows change to morning light, 

And eve proclaim the tidings of midday, 
Fire and water in one bond unite, 

And spring unchanged for ever hold his sway : 
Then shall our ended loves be finished quite, 

W T hen earth its primal chaos shall display. 
Ere I do leave thee, gentle lady bright. 

The solid stones shall melt like wax away. 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



199 



Here the singer has evidently met with reverses. 

Misero chi confida a la fortuna, 

Pazzo chi crede in amicizia umana : 
Nel mondo non si da fede veruna; 

L'amante piu fedele s'allontana. 
Le donne sono simili a la luna, 

Fanno li quarti ad ogni settimana; 
Meglio e lasciarle andare a una a una, 

E vivere con tutte a la lontana. 
Misero chi confida a la fortuna, 

Pazzo chi crede in amicizia umana. 

A fool is he who waits on fortune's boon, 

Mad he who counts on friendship's* fickleness ; 
The truest trust is bent and broken soon ; 

In this world is no certain steadfastness : 
For women vary as the varying moon, 

Which every week a different face doth dress; 
Better to pass them by thee one by one, 

And bide away from them in singleness. 
A fool is he who waits on fortune's boon, 

Mad he who counts on friendship's fickleness. 

The next I shall quote has an air so delicately sad and 
tender in its expression, so refined and pensive in its low- 
breathed sorrow, that I scarcely know where to place it 
amongst all the erotic lyrics with which I am acquainted. 

Vanne, sospiro mio, vanne a trovare 

Quella che doglia sol me reca al core ! 
Giunto dinanzi a lei, fatte a parlare; 

Racconta le mie pene, '1 mio dolore ; 
Dicce che peno sempre, e che me pare 

De vederme ridotto all' ultime ore ; 
Di, che quantunque me faccia penare, 

Gostante sono sempre nel suo amore — 
E se la trovi sorda a li lamenti, 
Povero mio sospir, te spargo ai venti. 

I cannot hope to have translated with anything like the 
sentiment of the original this fragile little lyric, exhaling 
the very aroma of the soul's tenderness. It would require 
a Shakespeare, a Fletcher, or a Ben Jonson to do it justice. 

* Amicizia, however, in Italian, means rather more than "friendship" 
in English. 



2oo THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



Here is the best representative that I can give my English 
readers for it. 

Go forth, my sigh, go sadly forth, and find 

Her who doth feed my heart with sorrow's flow; 
And if thou reach her tell her all my mind, 

Recount my griefs and paint my wasting woe : 
Tell her I suffer still — through her, unkind, 

My life's last hour in anguish seems to go : 
Tell her that though she scorn me, still I bind 

My soul to hers with love no change can know — 
And if, sad sigh, thou find her unrelenting, 
Then die upon the air in vain lamenting. 

The following little song is of another order, but scarcely 
less charming in its way than some of the foregoing. It 
was taken down from the mouth of a peasant at Castel 
Gondolfo, at the foot of the Sabine mountains.* 

La prima volta che m' innamorai 
Piantai lo dolce persico alia vigna, 
E poi gli dissi, Persico benigno, 
S' amor mi lassa, ti possi seccare ! 

A capo all' anno ritornai alia vigna; 
Trovai lo dolce persico seccato ; 
Mi butto in terra e tutta scapiglio : 
Questo e segno ch' amore m' ha lassato. 

Albero che t'avevo tanto a caro, 
E t' innaquavo co li miei sudore, 
Si son seccate le cime e le rame 
I frutti han perso lo dolce sapore. 

Morte vieni da me quando ti pare, 
Giacche il mio bene ha mutato pensare. 

When first the sweet pleasure of loving I knew 
I planted a peach in my vineyard one day, 

And prayed, if my loved one should e'er prove untrue, 
My beautiful peach tree might wither away. 



* By my friend, Signor Ettore Ferrari, a young Roman sculptor, who 
adds a wide literary culture to his professional abilities. I may take this 
opportunity of acknowledging my obligations to him also in other respects 
in the compilation of this portion of my volume. 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SOXGS. 



20I 



In the spring I returned to my vineyard, and found 
My peach tree was drooping, all faded and dried : 

Then weeping, I threw myself down on the ground: 
For this is a sign she is faithless. I cried. 

My beautiful peach that to me was so dear. 

So anxiously tended and nourished with pain. 
Its branches are withered, its leaves are grown sere. 

Its fruits their sweet savour no longer retain. 

Come. Death, when thou wilt: all my pleasures are o'er. 
Since she who once loved me now loves me no more. 

As we leave the Campagna of Rome and enter into the 
districts of Umbria these songs assume a rather different 
form, though the character of them is very much the same. 
They are for the most part designated by the term Rispetti 
(or respects). They are short poems, wherein the lover 
addresses his mistress with compliments or salutations. 
They are usually composed in from six to ten lines or 
verses ; those of eight lines generally interrhyming the first 
six. and closing with a couplet conveyed almost always 
with great point and force, gracefully inverting and re- 
peating the previous subject. Their conceptive treatment 
is sometimes sententious, and then the principal sentence 
is first laid down, and the corollary follows by way of 
deduction from it, or else the subject to be enforced is first 
stated, and the example or apology used by way of illus- 
tration. Here is one of this class of poems in which the 
Muse has tried her hand on the old problem. 

O Dio del cielo, o Dio del ciel benigno. 
Perche tu non facesti il mondo paro \ 
Tu facesti chi ricco e chi meschino. 
A chi donastr il dolce. a chi 1' amaro, 
A chi tu desti 1' oro, a chi lo piombo : 
Xon e nessun contento in questo mondo. 
A chi tu desti 1' oro, a chi 1' argento : 
In questo mondo 'n e nissun contento. 

O God of heaven, O God of heaven benign. 

Why mad'st thou not this hapless world more even ? 

For one is rich, and one in want doth pine: 
To one is sweet, to one is bitter given : 



202 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



And one to lead, and one to gold hath birth: 
There is no one content upon the earth : — 
To one is gold, to one is silver sent : 
Upon the earth there is no one content. 

Here is another of the sententious order. 

Simile e 1' uomo all' uccelletto in gabbia ; 
Non canta per amore, ma per rabbia. 
Cosi son io quando vedo tene ; 
Canto, ma il mio cantar m' accresce pene. 

Man, like a bird shut up within a cage, 
Sings not for love, but rapt with sorrow's rage ; 
So I, when thou dost pass beside my door, 
Sing, but my singing makes the pain the more. 

What shall we say of the peasant's wife or innamorata 
who can address him on the eve of a journey in such terms 
as these ? — 

O bocca d' oro fra pomi d' argento, 
Ora lo vedo che tu vuoi partire. 
Partine pure, e vattene contento ; 
Ricordati, idol mio, del ben servire : 
E per la via troverai dell' erbe ; 
Ricordati, idol mio, di chi ti serve : 
E per la via troverai dei fiori ; 
"Ricordati, idol mio, di chi abbandoni : 
E per la via troverai dei sassi ; 
Ricordati, idol mio, di chi tu lassi. 

O golden mouth in silver apples set, 

I know the time is come when you must go. 

Go, then ; your parting with contentment met ; 
Remember, dear, the service that you owe : 

And by the way green herbage you will find ; 

Remember, dearest, whom you leave behind : 

And by the way bright blossoms will enweave ; 

Remember, my sweet idol, her you leave: 

And by the way hard rocks and stones will lie ; 

Remember her to whom you say good-bye. 

This was probably given forth on the occasion of the 
lover's departure to the lowlands, where many of the 
peasants go at certain seasons of the year to assist in the 
labours of agriculture. The allusion to the temptations, 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



203 



troubles and difficulties with which he may meet, and 
through which he is to be protected by the guardian 
thought of the loved one, is beautifully conveyed. It will 
hardly be believed that such songs as these should be the 
composition of totally uneducated persons, as far as literary 
culture goes. Still more amazing is it that such elegant 
strains should be frequently given forth impromptu — the 
offspring of the moment without any premeditation. 
Tigri, in the introduction to his collection of Tuscan 
popular songs, gives some interesting particulars regarding 
the faculty of improvising amongst the peasantry, from 
which I will make a few extracts. 

"The countryman," he says, "both in the mountains and 
on the plains, is accustomed to sing at every age and at all 
hours. Singing, he feels his labour grow the lighter, 
whether it be domestic or that of the fields. The old man 
sings at the loom, or as he sits by the fire, and his songs, 
always seasoned with some good and sentential matter, are 
learnt by his children and grandchildren. If to the. exercise 
of the faculty of song is adjoined the advantage of having 
read or heard some poetical composition, ' the Royal Race 
of France ' (I Reali di Franck), or the verses of Tasso, for 
example, it will be scarcely surprising when I say that these 
songs transmitted from family to family not only originated 
with themselves, but that exquisitely beautiful ones are 
being composed in the same manner by the men and women 
of to-day. I myself knew a girl of our mountains from the 
hamlet of Stazzana, named Maria, an authoress of much 
spirit, who, although, she told me, she had never read a single 
book of poetry, yet knowing by heart an infinite number 
of these songs-^just as a youth newly emerged from his 
rhetorical exercises with the ring of classic verses still in his 
mind would, by recurring to them, be able to frame good 
ones — with a natural aptitude for making verses, readily 
succeeded in composing harmonious and effective lyrics. 
The same thing was the case with a young shepherdess 
called Cherubina, whom I also met. This young girl, of a 



204 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



pleasing person, full of spirit and good sense, showed me, 
after many entreaties and pretty excuses, some verses on 
the Passion of our Lord, which she had composed without 
any other help than that of nature and two little books of 
devotion from which she had taken the subject, which she 
carried with her every day when she went to tend the 
sheep. When I asked her to repeat to me some Rispetti, 
she excused herself by saying, ' Oh, sir, I can repeat ever 
so many when I sing — but now — unless they came clearly 
before me, indeed I cannot.' So true is it that they do not 
conceive of poetry without song ; in fact they never speak 
of improvising, but of singing poetry. This I can confirm 
with the example of a well-known improvisatrice of the 
Pistoian Apennines, Beatrice di Pian degli Ontani, of whom 
Tommaseo thus writes in the preface to his 1 Canti Popolari.' 
' At Cutigliano I found a rich vein of song which I was 
not able to exhaust in a whole day. I caused to come 
from Pian degli Ontani, about three miles distant, a certain 
Beatrice, the wife of a shepherd, herself also a tender 
of flocks, who did not know how to read, but could im- 
provise in octaves [stanzas of six interrhymed lines and a 
couplet]. . . Beatrice warmed in a trial of skill with a 
respondent, singing for a whole hour in elegant and refined 
terms, with the few ideas which had been bestowed upon 
her ; always taking up the rhymes of the two last verses 
sung by her companion.' I may add that from that time 
she has been constantly in the habit of singing impromptu ; 
and that during the last Italian events of eighteen hundred 
and forty-eight, often called to Cutigliano to improvise 
before various persons, she was not in the habit of refusing ; 
but without any preparation, only asked to be made ac- 
quainted with the incidents (which were those of the time) 
upon which they desired her to improvise, when in the 
midst of a circle of the peasantry of the district, she in a 
moment commenced to sing the most beautiful octave 
verses." 

As an illustration of the faculty possessed by this gifted 



205 



woman, as well as for its good, wholesome teaching,. I will 
here give one of her little lyrics, also made impromptu. 

Non vi maravijliate, giovanetti, 
Se non sapessi troppo ben cantare. 
In casa mia non ci e nato maestri. 
E manco a scuola son ita a imparare. 
Se voi volete intender la mia scuola. 
Su questi poggi all'acqua e alia gragnuola. 
Volete intender lo mio imparare ? 
Andar per legna, o starmene a zappare. 

Perhaps I have scarcely got the simplicity of the original 
in this translation ; but here is the sense of it. 

It is no marvel, youths, your song is shorn 
Of that fine tone which makes the poet burn. 

Within my house there is no master born, 
Nor any school where I my task might learn. 

If you would go to school where I did gain 

My power, mount yonder crags through hail and rain : 

If you would read, as I, the muse's tome, 

Go dig the ground and fetch the fuel home.* 

I shall here give a few examples from the Umbrian or 

* It is interesting to compare this with one of Wordsworth's sonnets, 
in which he seems dimly to have perceived, as a thesis, from the side of 
reflection and culture, what has here become a resultant and experimental 
fact to the mind of the poetess-improvisatrice. 

Enough of garlands, of the Arcadian crook, 

And all that Greece and Italy have sung, 

Of swains reposing myrtle groves among ! 

Ours couch on native rocks, will cross a brook 

Swoln with chill rains, nor ever cast a look 

This way or that, or give it even a thought 

More than by smoothest pathway may be brought 

Into a vacant mind. Can written book 

Teach what they learn ? Up, hardy mountaineer ! 

And guide the Bard, ambitious to be one 

Of Nature's privy council as thou art 

On cloud-sequestered heights, that see and hear 

To what dread Power He delegates his part 

On earth, who works in the heaven of heavens, alone. 



2o6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



Tuscan songs of Tigri's collection. Here is one put 
together with considerable grace and poetic perceptiveness. 

La luna s' e venuta a lamentare 
Inde la faccia del divino Amore : 
Dice che in cielo non ci vuol piu stare: 
Che tolto gliel' avete lo splendore. 
E si lamenta, e si lamenta forte; 
L'ha conto le sue stelle, non son tutte 
E gliene manca due, e voi Y avete : 
Son que'du'occhi che in fronte tenete. 

The moon arises in the midnight sky, 

And thus to Love Divine she makes her moan ; 
She says she can no longer stay thereby, 

Because its splendour, rapt by you, is gone : 
F ull sadly she complains, and sadly sighs : 
She counts her stars, and finds the tale is short — 
Two lost for all her searching; they are those 
That shine beneath the bending of your brows. 

Here is a gallant little strain, probably the impromptu 

of a moment. 

Avete un crine inanellato e biondo, 
C ha fortemente legato il mio core : 
Ete un par d'occhi danno luce al mondo, 
E mi tengon soggetto a tutte 1' ore. 

With many a bright ringlet thy blonde hair so curled 
Has bound in immovable fetters my heart; 

Those two bonny eyes which illumine the world 
Still hold me thy subject wherever thou art. 

Another on the same subject. 

E son venuto, bella, per comprare 
Questi due occhi che in fronte tenete. 
Non ho portato somma di danaro, 
Che non sapevo il prezzo che chiedete : 
Non ho portato ne oro ne argento; 
Vi lascio lo mio cor per pagamento : 
Non ho portato ne argento ne oro; 
Vi lascio lo mio cor, ricco tesoro. 

I would buy those eyes of thine, 

Shining bright in beauty's mask, 
But have no gold — could not divine 

What the price that you might ask. 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



207 



Gold and silver — failing both. 
Take for pay my heart in troth: 
Neither silver, neither gold, 
Take my heart's rich wealth untold. 

Here is a pretty, sad one. 

Rondinella, che passi monti e colli. 
Se trovi 1' amor mio, digli che venga ; 
E digli, son rimasta in questi poggi, 
Come rimane la smarrita agnella ; 
E digli son rimasta senza nimo, 
Come l'albero secco senza il ramo ; 
E digli, son rimasta abbandonata, 
Come l'erbetta secca in sulle prata. 

O swallow, flying o'er those rugged places, 
If you find my loved one, bid him come : 

And tell him, here amongst these mountain mazes 
I wander like a lamb bereft of home ; 
And tell him, here I live and make my moan, 
Like a withered tree whose top is gone ; 
And tell him, here I live without a lover, 
Like a tree whose summer green is over ; 
And tell him, here I live abandoned, 
Like a droughted mead whose grass is dead. 

Here is one in a livelier strain, composed also in absence ; 
or, it may be, a half serious little conceit thrown after a 
faithless one. 

Cupido mio, Cupido marinaro, 

Mi presteresti un po' la tua galera ? 

Ch'io me ne vada a spasso per il mare 

A ritrovar la mia dama che era. 

E se la trovo, la vo' imprigionare ; 

Metter li voglio al collo una catena: 

Metter li voglio al collo cose belle, 

Un giglio, un bel diamante e quattro stelle. 

Cupid sailor, Cupid mine, 

Lend me but that bark of thine. 

I would sail across the sea, 

To bring my fair one back to me : 

And if I find her, to detain her, 

Round her pretty neck would chain her — 

Would hang about that neck of hers 

A lily, a fine diamond, and four bright stars. 



2o8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



Sometimes they are humorous, as in the following. 

Oh ! come fa la donna contadina 
Quando le' vede 1' amante passare ! 
E va sull' uscio, e chiama la gallina. 
Finche 1' amante si venga a voltare. 
Quando 1' amante poi s' e rivoltato. 
Scio, scio, gallina. che non t' ho chiamato ! 

These country girls are mighty sly : 
For when they see their lovers' faces. 

Chuck, chuck ! as to the fowls, they cry, 
Until their lover turns and gazes : 

Then call, as if they meant no other, 

Shoo, shoo! these fowls are quite a bother. 

Here is one of some newly-bereaved Chloe, almost as 
pungent as Martial, which says more for her philosophy 
than her constancy. We will, however, suppose that it is a 
mere jeu <$ esprit. 

E morto lo mio amore. e non ho pianto : 
Credevo ben che fusse altro dolore : 
E morto il papa, e se n' e fatto un altro, 
E cosi faro io un altro amore. 

My sweetheart is dead, but I make no pother. 

For in life there is too much sorrow: 
When the good pope dies they will find another, 

And I a sweetheart to-morrow. 

Sometimes lines of the very highest order are met with 
in these lyrics. These, for example, would match with 
some of the best of Petrarch or our own Marlowe. They 
are conceived in the finest spirit of true poetry. 

Oh quanto vi sta ben la gentilezza. 
Come ad un prato un bel manto di fiori. 

How do thy dainty graces fit thee well. 
As to a mead a mantle of fair flowers ! 

Or this one. 

Vi ride prima gli occhi che la bocca. 
Your eyes are seen to smile before your mouth. 

It is probable that the great revival of Italian letters in 



Chap. VIII. 



POPULAR SONGS. 



209 



the latter half of the thirteenth century was in a great 
measure based upon these native little lyrics which floated 
about everywhere, as a comparison with the poems of Cino 
da Pistoia, Dante da Maiano, Guido Cavalcanti, and others, 
will render apparent. The resemblance is not only per- 
ceptible in the sentiment of many of them, but also in their 
construction, particularly in the opening phrase and its 
repetition in similar rhymes at the end of the piece, which, 
as has been seen, is a characteristic of many of the sur- 
viving popular lyrics, being, probably, in the first instance, 
an adaptation of the Tuscan and Umbrian stornello. These 
stomelli are short little interlocutory songs, sometimes 
strung together and sung alternately, and sometimes used 
as the chorus or refrain to other songs. They generally 
commence with the name of a fruit or flower, giving the 
motive to the two following lines, with which the latter 
rhymes, these constituting the whole of the piece. Here 
is a sample of these little productions. 

Foglia d'aprile. 
Ora che me lo hai fatto licenziare, 
E notte e giorno mi farai morire. 

April leaves. 
Now thou hast rejected me, faithless lover, 
I die night and day, my heart so grieves. 

Sometimes they vary the apostrophe to some other 
object, as in this. 

O luna, O sole ! 
O stella Diana, non mi abbandonare: 
Fammi rifar la pace col mi' do amore. 

O sun, O moon ! 
O star of Diana, do not forsake me; 
But make my peace with my lover full soon. 

Besides these there is another class of songs which con- 
stitute a sort of ballad literature to be found in print, which 
have nothing whatever of the tenderness, grace, and senti- 
ment of these little lyrics in their composition. They are 
mostly vulgar recitals of adventure or crime, sold as half- 

P 



2IO 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 



penny ballads on the stalls at fairs and festivals. But 
these are certainly not to be considered indigenous. They 
are generally either imported from other languages, or are 
the composition of literary hacks of the cities. How far a 
larger education might improve or destroy this sweet foun- 
tain of native song is a question which experience alone can 
decide. Very probably, where the touch is so delicate, so 
instinctively fine and right, education would rather tend to 
its destruction by substituting other trains of thought and 
wider intellectual ranges for the simplicity which goes 
straight to its subject from instinctive feeling. Fortu- 
nately, the Italians are now fully alive to the importance 
of collecting and preserving these charming effusions, which 
begin to form one of the most valuable and beautiful pages 
of all their literary treasures. The work should be pro- 
ceeded with promptly, before the tide of change and more 
extended interests shall have swept them ruthlessly out of 
memory. 



•- 




m 



SORACTE. 



Chap. IX. 



( 211 ) 



CHAPTER IX. 

FROM S CORA NO TO TODI. 
S the not very important length of the river between 



Scorano and Borghetto is traversed by the railway, 
and I had already passed it several times before, being 
thus familiarised with the aspects of the river between 
these points, I thought it sufficient to take the train from 
Rome to Borghetto in company with Mr. Hemans, who 
had specially visited many of the localities, so - as to be 
able to indicate any point of particular interest. Ac- 
cordingly, Mr. Hemans, myself, and Mr. Barclay, who 
joined us for the purpose of exercising his pencil and study- 
ing" the valuable works of art that we should meet with, one 
morning took train from Rome to Borghetto. It will be 
sufficient to notice the chief features of the country and 
landscape in passing. 

For some distance beyond Scorano the little-cultivated 
Campagna passes into well-cared-for plains of pasture and 
arable land, varied with wide patches of sombre woodland. 
Presently, these plains rise into sloping hills, until they 
attain a considerable elevation, the summits of which are 
picturesquely crowned at intervals with towns and villages 
that seem to belong to the kingdom of the air more than 
the earth, each with its graceful campanile and perhaps a 
grey tower or two, bearing on its battered walls memorials 
of the feudal past. Nothing could be more charming than 
the situation of these miniature citadels, sometimes built 




P 2 



212 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



upon a shelf of rock, sometimes rising from groves and 
trees, sometimes having their foundations laid in slopes of 
emerald grass. The hills also are very lovely. Their 
sides are clothed with varied tints of vegetation, broken 
with soft grey patches of lichened rock. Through this 
delightful region the river flows, wandering hither and 
thither, as if to leave no beauty unexplored, no nook, how- 
ever remote and secluded, unvisited, fed from time to time 
in his course by the tiny tributaries of meadow-brook or 
hillside torrent running down joyfully to greet him. At 
every turn Mount Soracte (now called St. Oreste) presents 
its majestic outline and torn peak with still clearer dis- 
tinctness, the tiny convent at its summit like a speck 
against the sky. This classic mountain properly belongs 
to the Apennine limestone range, though situated in the 
midst of a volcanic country. Its name is frequently met 
with in ancient writers. " Dost thou see how high Soracte 
stands," says Horace, in his well-known winter piece, 
"white with deep snow, whilst the labouring woods are 
crushed beneath their load ?"* It was once famous as the 
site of a temple dedicated to Apollo, whose priests were 
supposed to possess miraculous powers over the element 
of fire, which it was believed could not injure them. Virgil 
alludes to this in the prayer of Arruns before slaying 
Camilla, when he makes him exclaim, " Highest of the 
gods to me, Apollo, guardian of holy Soracte, whom first 
we honour, for whom is fed the blaze of pines piled up, 
whose votaries we, passing through the fire in the strength 
of our piety, press the soles of our feet on many a burning 
coal, grant, almighty Father, that by my arms may be 
abolished our dishonour."! 

* Vides ut alta stet rrive candidum 
Soracte, nec jam sustineant onus 
Silvan laborantes geluque 
Flumina constiterint acuto. 

O. i. 9. 

t Summe Deum, sancti custos Soractis Apollo, &c. 

Mn. xi. 785. 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



213 



About twenty-four miles from Rome, on the right, is the 
little town of Correse, which represents the ancient Cures, 
a celebrated city of the Sabine territory. The earliest 
notice of it in history is when Romulus, after the subjuga- 
tion of Antemnse, Csenina, and Crustumerium, advanced so 
nearly to the Sabine borders that the nation became 
alarmed, and joining themselves in league against him 
under Tatius, the king of Cures, prepared to withstand his 
progress. Dionysius says it was one of the greatest of the 
Sabine cities. It is also mentioned by Strabo as having 
been once important, though a mere village in his day. 
\ From this town Numa Pompilius, the early priest-king, 
went to Rome, from which circumstance the Roman and 
Sabine people gave themselves the joint name of Quirites. 
Antique remains are still to be^seen in its neighbourhood, 
though not very numerous or important. 

Somewhat removed from the river on the left is Fiano, 
probably the ancient Flavina or Flavinium mentioned by 
Virgil and Silius Italicus.* A few miles beyond this point 
the river is spanned by the Ponte Felice, first built by 
Augustus, connecting Umbria with Etruria, near which is 
the picturesque village of Borghetto, whose broken old 
castle forms so conspicuous an object from the plain. This 
plain was the seat of a somewhat memorable engagement 
at the end of the last century. When Napoleon Bonaparte 
had withdrawn the flower of his army into Egypt, the 
Neapolitans thought it a good opportunity to attempt to 
rid their country of the French altogether, who were at 
that time in the occupation of Rome. On the king 
entering Rome with his army, under General Mack, who 
had come from Germany at the king's request, the enemy 
abandoned it. They, however, soon rallied, and meeting 
the Neapolitans in this place, defeated them with great 
slaughter ; so that General Mack with the remnant of his 
army was driven back to Naples. 

Leaving the railway at Borghetto, we got into a vehicle 
* Mn. vii. 696. Sil. viii. 492. 



214 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



of the country serving as a very limited order of omnibus, 
into which four persons might squeeze themselves with 
difficulty. At the same time there entered it a portly and 
respectable middle-aged gentleman, who devoutly crossed 
himself before doing so — the pious prelude of old-fashioned 
travellers to any undertaking in which there may be risk or 
danger. We had some conversation with him. He spoke 
with severity against the new government of the Roman 
territory. Under papal rule he had been general of the 
fortress of Civita Castellana, which is a considerable one ; 
but on its annexation to the kingdom of Italy he had, of 
course, been dispossessed. Whilst we were talking, there 
came on a heavy shower of rain ; the wretched old sun- 
cracked covering of the vehicle allowing the water to pour 
upon us in streams from eveiy part of it, so that we were 
soon wet through. By the roadside we saw some cloaked 
and cowled figures watching over the body of a shepherd who 
had been found dead the day before, probably from natural 
causes, as we were told there was no mark of violence upon 
him. The ex-general made it a ground of bitter complaint 
against the new regime that the poor fellow had lain there 
so long pending the official inquiry ; for by the law it is 
necessary that any one meeting with death in any extra- 
ordinary manner must be left in the same place and 
position until inquiry has been made. By the time we had 
got to Civita Castellana the rain cleared off and the sun 
shone brightly. Bidding farewell to our fellow-traveller, 
with many offers of civility and ' politeness on his part to 
afford us any assistance that he might be able to render, 
we entered our albergo, one of the better kinds of inns of 
the Roman territory. 

Whilst we were sitting after dinner, an interesting- 
looking lad came into the room, dusty and apparently 
tired. He brought with him a violin, and, after saluting 
us, began to play upon it, resting it on his knee, in the 
manner which one frequently sees represented in old 
pictures. There was a touch of pathos in his appearance ; 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



215 



he looked thin and worn. Presently, at the request of an 
Italian who sat at table with us, he commenced to sing a 
Neapolitan song called "Mastro Raffaello," in a somewhat 
rough voice. I asked where he came from. " Quite un- 
necessary to ask," anticipated our companion at table ; " of 
course he comes from Viggiano ; 11011 e vero, raggazzino f" 
(is it not true, my boy ?) he said, turning to the young 
musician. "'Ngnor, si" (yes, sir), he answered in the 
manner of the Neapolitans. " It is a most wonderful little 
town, that of Viggiano," pursued our companion ; " there is 
scarcely a man, woman, or child in it who does not play 
some musical instrument, generally the violin, very often 
with taste and feeling. I have seen a little child," he 
added, " of three years old take the violin upon its knee 
and play, not merely with accuracy, but with a style and 
manner quite surprising." It would appear as if this talent 
were quite innate, since no one teaches the people, but 
they seem to grow naturally into it. 

Civita Castellana is a few miles to the west of the Tiber, 
with which it is connected by a small tributary called the 
Treja. It is situated upon an undulating table-land, but, 
like Veii, is surrounded by deep ravines, which entrench it 
on all sides excepting the south, where it subsides into the 
plain or table-land towards Nepi and Monterosi. The 
ravines are doubtless the result of volcanic disturbances 
which have torn the tufaceous rock into these enormous 
rents, at the bottom of which streams of water run, turning- 
several picturesque mills in their course. The sides of 
the cliffs are excavated in many places by numerous 
Etruscan tombs. The chasms are crossed by two lofty 
modern bridges leading into the town. The town itself 
is not remarkable, except for that quaintness and irregu- 
larity of structure so frequently met with in Italy. It has a 
fine cathedral front or portico of delicate and graceful 
architecture, with mosaics by the Cosmati, the celebrated 
mosaic workers of the thirteenth century. Various remains 
of ancient Roman marbles are built into the walls of the 



2l6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



houses here and there. Its mediaeval history is embodied 
in the sturdy old fortress built by San Gallo for Pope 
Alexander the Sixth, still maintained, as has been said, as 
a garrison. Not only is the situation of the town romantic 
and beautiful in itself, but it is surrounded by a country 
which embraces every variety of spreading champaign, 
deep-green woods and far-away hillside slopes spotted 
with towns and villages — all overlooked by the towering 
Soracte and the more distant mountains of Sabina. 

Here stood Falerii, one of the oldest and most powerful 
cities of Etruria. Its origin is involved in obscurity. The 
peculiar character of its position would doubtless cause it 
to be chosen as one of the first settlements in this part of 
Italy. It is first mentioned as having united arms with 
the Veientes and Fidenates against Rome in the year four 
hundred and thirty-seven before Christ, when the allied 
forces were defeated by Cornelius Cossus under the walls 
of Fidense, as already narrated. Still maintaining the 
strongest enmity against Rome, the Falisci did their best 
to induce the inhabitants of the surrounding country to assist 
the Veientes in their last struggle against their powerful 
enemies. This brought upon them the vengeance of the 
Romans. After the fall of Veii, Camillus led his army 
into the territory of the Falisci, who, witnessing from their 
walls the slaughter and depredations committed around 
them, issued from the city, establishing themselves on the 
summit of a steep place of difficult access, about a mile 
distant. Camillus, however, succeeded in obtaining pos- 
session of a situation which commanded theirs, and thence 
making an onslaught upon them, drove them back with 
considerable losses into the city, which was then besieged ; 
but its reduction might have been as protracted an under- 
taking as that of Veii had not a fortunate chance occurred 
to further the cause of the Romans. 

A schoolmaster, having under his care the children of 
some of the chief families at Falerii, was accustomed to 
take them for recreation without the walls of the city- 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODL 



217 



One day he led them gradually nearer to the enemies' 
circumvallations, until they had overpassed the boundary 
and found themselves at the door of Camillus' tent. The 
schoolmaster then delivered the children into the hands of 
Camillus, telling him that by this means he gave him the 
power to make his own terms with the besieged city. 
Camillus, however, rejected the proposal with great scorn, 
saying that the Romans fought as men and soldiers, not as 
robbers and traitors ; and placing rods in the hands of the 
youths, stripped their schoolmaster, and bade them drive 
him back to the city to receive the reward of his treachery. 
This piece of good faith on the part of the Romans so 
affected their enemies that they at once entered into an 
armistice, and finally yielded themselves in allegiance to 
Rome. 

The peace, however, was not a permanent one. Many 
subsequent collisions took place. The last was in the year 
two hundred and forty-one before Christ. This rebellion 
was punished by the Falisci being driven from the strong- 
hold of their city, and compelled to establish themselves 
on a plain four miles away, only protected on one side by 
a deep gorge ; all the other parts of their colony being left 
exposed to an easy attack from without ; the new city 
losing its Etruscan character, and becoming a Roman 
settlement. 

A few fragments of primitive mural structure and the 
above-mentioned tombs which perforate the rocks are 
almost all the substantial indications left of the earlier 
city ; and yet it seems filled with an indefinite atmos- 
phere of the past — those vague intimations of a former 
greatness and vitality which sometimes crowd the mind 
with mysterious surmisings in visiting spots known to 
have been the theatre of great doings, or the scenes of 
important events to the human race. As I stood at my 
window at night just before retiring to rest, and every 
sound was hushed but the murmur of the stream deep 
down in the ravine, and the pale half-moon illuminated the 



218 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX 



cleft here and there, leaving a dark shadow at the bottom, 
and the far Ciminian range steeped in spectral light 
seemed yet to retain the eeriness with which superstition 
once invested it, the boastful Roman appeared to my 
mind's eye standing across the hollow gulf, taunting his foe 
with gestures and contumelious reproaches to come forth 
and fight, whilst in the town the people ran hither and 
thither, uncertain what might be the issue of the conflict. 

The next morning we went in search of the new 
city, the Roman Falerii. Our way lay along a pleasant 
road of three or four miles through flowery pastures, exten- 
sive corn-fields, and dwarfed plantations. The harvest was 
everywhere being gathered in, although it was only the 
month of June. Bands of reapers were singing merrily 
at their toil, followed by gleaners in true pastoral fashion. 
Doubtless, as they went, the reapers would now and 
then drop an ear or two for the old women and girls, who 
promptly answered their songs in their rear. At a neigh- 
bouring encampment some refreshed themselves upon rustic 
fare, or laughed and chatted in the shade. The reapers 
and gleaners were followed by ploughmen, in ranks of ten 
or a dozen, whose implements were of the rudest possible 
construction. They were drawn by sturdy yokes of grey 
oxen, whose ponderous force slowly turned up the furrows 
to the sun as they received the shouts of their drivers with 
stolid indifference. Occasionally we met flocks of goats, or 
droves of oxen, leisurely booming their bells along the 
dusty road, driven by a man or boy or young girl, looking 
so charmingly rustic, so much removed from every influence 
but that of the sun, the fresh air, and simple country 
experiences, that it seemed as if Chloe and Corydon were 
once more amongst us, and the idyllic Arcadia returned to 
protest against modern improvements and the revolutions 
of ages. It was almost quite suddenly that we came upon 
Falerii. The effect upon the mind was startling. A turn 
of the road brought the walls of the city full into view. 
They stand almost as complete as when they were put 



Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TODI. 



219 



together. They are of massive construction, consisting of 
great blocks of the red tufa of the country adjusted with 
the utmost care and nicety. In one place they reach a 
height of thirty-two feet from the bottom of a hollow. At 
intervals square towers occur all round the city. Two 
arched gateways still remain, the one surmounted at the 
keystone by a time-worn head, which is supposed to have 
represented that of Jupiter, and the other by the head of an 
ox. Here and there the walls are hung with ivy, or plumed 
with straggling shrubs, but for the most part they stand 
naked to the sun, rising out of the rank tangled growth at 
their feet in desolate grandeur. There is something very 
affecting in the loneliness of these walls that once inclosed 
a city of which scarcely a vestige remains. I could well 
understand what an acquaintance once told me, — that the 
sight drew tears from his eyes. An intense stillness pre- 
vailed around ; not even a breath disturbed the air as we 
entered the limits of the vanished city. The undulating 
plain upon which once stood theatre and forum and piscina, 
is now covered with waving grain, here and there sur- 
mounted by the fragment of some broken ruin that tells no 
tale of its former purpose. At the western extremity of 
the ancient town there is a church, together with an old 
monastery, which has been utilized for the residence of 
farm labourers. It is called Santa Maria di Fallen. The 
church is of the Lombard style, twelfth century, of very 
beautiful construction. It is fast falling to decay, though it 
wants little more than the roof (which fell in eighteen 
hundred and twenty-nine) to preserve it for many years to 
come. It consists of a nave, aisle, and transept, containing 
five apses. Several of the columns, which must formerly 
have supported some temple of the ancient city, are of 
fluted marble, Blocks of antique Roman ornament are 
also let into the walls. But the most valuable part of it is 
a fine white marble portico by the Cosmati. It is com- 
posed of four graceful Corinthian columns, two on each 
side, and a series of clustering arches. In the highest 



220 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



point of one of these a mosaic cross has been inserted 
which is now destroyed. It is deplorable that so beautiful 
a monument of the taste and skill of these accomplished 
artists should be lost in decay, which it assuredly will be 
unless the portal be carried away within a few years. 
There is something saddening in the juxtaposition of this 
Christian temple with the remains of a worn-out age : the 
symbols of paganism and Christianity both mingling their 
dust in a common decay. 

To the botanist and lover of Nature the neighbourhood 
of this old city during the summer months presents an 
endless variety of interest. It is everywhere surrounded 
with the most luxuriant growth of wild plants and flowers, 
which burst from the soil in the most brilliant profusion, as 
if vying with each other which should make the greatest 
show. The ravine that lies under the walls to the south is 
quite a galaxy of glories^ peopled by tribes of many-coloured 
butterflies, that disport themselves gaily up and down these 
glittering parterres of Nature's sowing, whilst the old walls 
stand round gloomily, as if deploring the changes they have 
witnessed. 

As we stood examining some ruins outside the walls, 
we were civilly accosted by a handsome-looking man on 
horseback, dressed in white tights and a short jacket. He 
carried a gun in his hand, having an air of energy and 
spirit that, in spite of his rustic garments, proclaimed him 
to be one more accustomed to command than obey. Indeed 
he was the lord of the manor, and proprietor of the sur- 
rounding territory. We entered into conversation with 
him. He answered all our questions with much politeness, 
and pointed out the supposed more important sites of the 
ancient city. He said that of late years decay had made 
large ravages, so that what little there was within his 
recollection was fast passing away. After an interchange 
of civilities, he rode off at a brisk pace to superintend the 
labours of his estate, and we retraced our way along the 
road, always with the grand view of Soracte before us, 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 



221 



which, with a mighty sweep, rose from the spreading plain, 
soft and bright in the brilliant sunshine. 

From Civita Castellana we once more took the train for 
a short distance, as the railway still follows the course of 
the river. The country it passes through is of a quiet 
pastoral order ; a kind of valley, in which are heard the 
bells of pasturing cattle, pleasant human voices, and songs 
of birds. On each side the hills rise with various acclivities, 
chequered with fields and trees, and surmounted by the 
same citadel-like towns. Every moment brought into view 
a fresh panorama, always with the river flowing through it ; 
sometimes rippling over pebbly shallows by groves of white- 
stemmed poplars, sometimes laving the borders of the vine- 
yards, in which the vines hung from tree to tree in long 
festoons, sometimes singing amongst the stooks of reaped 
corn, or creeping round the spurs of the hills, like fragments 
of amethyst set amongst the stones. 

About five miles from Borghetto, on the right, is the little 
village of Otricoli which represents Ocriculum, a municipal 
town of some importance under the ancient Romans. 
About the same distance from Otricoli, the Nar joins the 
Tiber, one of its most important tributaries. Although on 
this occasion we did not deviate from our direct route to 
follow this stream, yet as I had previously passed along it 
as far as Terni, I shall here give some little sketch of its 
course in the neighbourhood of the Tiber. 

The Nar rises in the Eastern Apennines, at the foot of 
Monte Sibilla (the Mons Fiscellus of Pliny), to the north of 
Norcia. It is about forty miles in length. For the first 
ten miles from its confluence with the Tiber it follows a 
rocky gorge between the mountains, boiling and roaring 
from rock to rock like a seething caldron. 

The first town met with on its banks is that of Narnia, 
built upon the precipice of a high hill, beneath which the 
boisterous river pursues its course. This town is situated 
on the Flaminian Way, fifty-six miles from Rome, and 
eight from the mouth of the stream from which it takes its 



222 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



name. Before it came into the occupation of the Romans 
it was called Nequinum. Three hundred years before the 
Christian era, it was besieged by the consul Apuleius. 
Whilst the siege was going on, two inhabitants of the 
town, whose residences were near the wall, formed a 
subterranean passage, and presented themselves before 
the advanced guard of the Romans. They were taken to 
the consul, to whom they made an offer of opening a way 
for his army into the town. One of these men being de- 
tained as hostage, the other was sent with two spies to 
reconnoitre. Three hundred armed soldiers were then 
introduced into the city by night, who, breaking open the 
nearest gate, allowed the Roman army to enter the town, 
of which they presently took undisputed possession. A 
colony of Romans was afterwards established here in order 
to protect the Umbrian border, the town taking the name 
of Narnia from the river. It would appear henceforward to 
have been a tolerably nourishing municipal town under 
Roman rule. It was the birthplace of the Roman emperor 
Nerva. The most remarkable of its antiquities is the cele- 
brated bridge now in ruins, which was built by Augustus 
for the purpose of carrying the Flaminian Way across the 
river. From the fragments of it which remain, it is evident 
that it must have been a noble structure. Martial alludes 
to it in one of his epigrams addressed to Narnia, the resi- 
dence of his friend Ouintus Ovidius. " Narnia," he says, 
" surrounded by the river Nar with its sulphureous waters, 
thou whom thy double heights render almost inaccessible, 
why does it please thee so often to take from me and 
detain with wearisome delay my friend Ouintus ? Why 
dost thou lessen the attractions of my Nomentan farm, 
which was valued by me because he was my neighbour 
there ? Have pity on me at length, Narnia, and abuse 
not thy possession of Quintus, so mayest thou delight in 
thy bridge for ever." * 

* Narnia, sulfureo quam gurgite candidus amnis 
Circuit, &c. — vii. 93. 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



223 




Following the course of the Nar to where it is joined 
by the Velino, we reach 
Terni, the ancient flour- 
ishing municipality of 
Interamna, formerly an 
Umbrian city of high 
antiquity. It was once 
proposed by the Roman 
senate to divert the 
waters of the Nar from 
the Tiber in order to 
lessen the overflowings 
of the latter. This, how- 
ever, was protested a- 
gainst by the Interam- 
nates, who urged that if 
such were to be the case, 
some of the most fruit- 
ful territories of Italy 
would be submerged at 
times of flood. The plan 
was afterwards aban- 
doned. So fertile was 
the country, that Pliny 
says it gave four crops 
of grass in the year. It 
was occupied by the 
troops of Vitellius in the 
civil war with Vespasian. 
About three miles above 
Terni are the falls of the 
Velino. They are formed 
by an artificial cutting 
made by the Roman 
consul Marcus Curius 
Dentatus to draw off 





the waters of a lake which is above them 



THE FALLS OF TERNI. 



It is useless t< 



224 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



add to the much that has been said and written about these 
falls. Nothing could be finer or more romantic than this 
noble sheet of water falling over the rocks, nor the scenery 
by which it is surrounded. 

Rejoining the Tiber, just below Orte, the landscape is 
diversified by numerous square mediaeval towers, which 
stand upon the hills like recording pillars of Time, marking 
its lapse by their still decay. Presently the heights of 
Orte are seen to rise in solemn majesty. It is built upon 
an abrupt and lofty cliff, its long line of irregularly con- 
structed houses broken by a campanile with perforated 
arcade windows and a low dome. As we approached it, 
the setting sun shone through the arches of a long aqueduct 
that stretches on one side of it, whilst purple mists began 
to line the valley. 

Before leaving Rome I had been fortunate enough to have 
made the acquaintance of a doctor who combined the ac- 
complishments of an artist and scholar with those of his 
profession. He was a native of Orte ; and when I told him 
of my proposed visit to that town he at once promised to 
write to his father, resident there, and also gave me a letter. 
He told me that there was no good inn there, but that either 
his father would himself receive me and my friends or else 
he would be able to find us a domicile. Accordingly, on 
arriving at the railway station, which is not very distant 
from the town, we requested to be driven to the house of 
the gentleman to whom we had the introduction. Ascend- 
ing the lofty elevation upon which the town is placed, 
we were filled with wonder at the quaint houses which hung 
above the precipice as if a breath would blow them over. It 
was not easy to see where man had begun his work or 
nature ceased, so brown, so old, so native to the rock did 
these quaint houses appear. As we entered the town the 
narrow streets, the gloomy corners, the arched and rearched 
passages, through which the light fell on Rembrandt-like 
figures, the winding steps, the pretty shrines, each with 
its little lamp, behind which the face of the Madonna was 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



225 



seen looking through festoons of hanging foliage, the curious 
old-world aspect of everything, seemed to transport one 
into the land of antique romance, the dream of some 
mediaeval poet or painter. 

The house of our destination was entered at the back 
by a narrow passage. On presenting myself I was met 
by a venerable-looking gentleman in a long coat, and wear- 
ing a berretta or cap of dark velvet on his head. He had a 
long grey beard, a mild expression of countenance, an eye 
undimmed by age, and that gentleness and repose of man- 
ner and demeanor which is the proper heritage of ages of 
culture and refinement. At the same time his daughter 
came forwards with a pleasant smile. She had passed the 
age of girlhood, but was still young. With considerable claims 
to good looks, she was something better than good-looking. 
Her smile was as open as sunshine, her manner easy and 
elegant. She welcomed me as the lady of the house, and 
said that they had provided accommodation for us with 
them. In vain I protested against the inconvenience that 
three guests, and those strangers, must make in their quiet 
household. No ' nay ' would be allowed ; everything had 
been prepared, and we must come. The warmth and 
generosity of our reception, than which nothing could have 
been more friendly or homelike, soon put us at our ease. 
The house was a very old-fashioned one, built of good solid 
mediaeval stone. It was one of those situated on the edge 
of the precipice, overlooking the picturesque, winding valley 
through which the yellow river flowed in sweeping curves 
and long-tracked lines. The interior consisted of a central 
hall, in which was a ponderous fire-place surmounted by a 
heavy stone cornice, something like our English residences 
of three hundred years ago. Out of this central hall the bed- 
chambers opened. The room was ornamented with some 
very creditable oil paintings from the hand of our accom- 
plished hostess. A guitar with some music lay upon the 
table ; other signs of cultivated occupation being visible. 
What was not the least remarkable was that in one of the 

Q 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



dirtiest towns of Italy, apparently with no underground 

drainage, and amidst so 
much that was squalid and 
filthy, here the most perfect 
and scrupulous cleanliness 
reigned throughout, from 
speckless linen to well- 
washed floors and walls. 
All this was refreshing to 
find in a place where we had 
expected to find nothing ; 
for although Orte is within 
two miles of a railway, yet 
very few strangers think of 
visiting it, and none of re- 
maining there any length 
of time. Our host was what 
is called a possedentc, a 
holder of property in the 
town, living in that kind of 
generous simplicity which, 
without being profuse, is 
sufficiently abundant. Pre- 
sently he and I turned out 
for a ramble together. He 
pointed out the notables of 
the place ; professing that 
there was little in the town 
to interest a stranger, at 
the same time giving me 
little peeps into the social 
and domestic life of the 
place, which I found very 
amusing. 

The town is Etruscan in 
its origin. Many cave-like 
excavations are to be seen 




THE TIBER FROM ORTE. 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



227 



in the rocks, which have probably served for tombs, 
possibly for residences. In some of the oldest houses it 
would almost appear as if traces of the Etruscan manner 
were retained in the depressed pointed arches formed of 
solid blocks of tufa above the doors and windows. The 
town was called Horta by the ancient Romans, probably 
from the name of an Etruscan goddess. It became a 
military colony in the time of Augustus. The road from 
Falerii to Ameria crossed the river just below the town 
by a bridge, the remains of which are still left standing. 

Modern Orte of course has its head caffe, where the 
loiterers and gossipers assemble in the evening, some of 
them even during the day (for there is little business of 
any kind transacted in the smaller Italian towns), for the 
purposes of discussion and fellowship. One very charac- 
teristic sight struck me here ; not, by the way, the only 
town in Italy where the same thing may be seen. Giving 
on to the Piazza there was a low unglazed window protected 
by a stout iron grating, which lighted a small cell or 
chamber — the prison of the town — in which there was 
a young man with matted hair and otherwise neglected 
toilette walking uneasily to and fro like a caged lion. As I 
paused to look in at his window he came and put his hand 
through the grate, asking me to give him something. He 
could see all that went on in the Piazza, and now and then 
a friendly gossip would come and entertain him with a little 
chat. 

Whilst we were thus walking about the town I began to 
talk of my proposed expedition, asking Signor F — as to 
the best means of making the journey to Orvieto along the 
course of the river, when an honest-looking young-man, who 
had heard a part of our conversation, came forward, and 
asked if he had heard aright, that I wanted to go to Orvieto, 
and then proceeded to say that as he knew the road very 
well, having frequently passed to and fro in his capacity of 
miller with corn and flour, perhaps he could assist the 
gentleman. As he was known to Signor F — , I finally 

Q 2 



228 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



concluded a bargain with him to accompany us, stating 
my desire to follow as nearly as possible the course of the 
river the whole way. He said he could not leave his occu- 
pation the following day, nor indeed would he be able to find 
horses, which were the only means of making the journey, at 
so short a notice. I "was unwilling to make this delay if 
possible, for I felt that we might be trespassing upon the 
hospitality of our host. My objections, however, were over- 
ruled by Signor F — , and as nothing else so satisfactory 
could be arranged, I at last consented to remain. 

When we returned to the house the active hands of our 
hostess and the cook had prepared for us a most abundant 
and excellent supper in an upper chamber, for which the 
politeness of our entertainers made many unnecessary 
apologies. As we sat over our wine, which was of the best, 
we had much conversation, finding our entertainers as intel- 
ligent as they were kind and agreeable. The discourse of 
Signor F — was marked by a philosophic breadth and 
temperance of view on subjects about which men often 
dispute and wrangle, as religion and politics, which are 
amongst the noblest fruits of years and experience. After 
supper we returned to the general sitting-room or hall 
before described. The moon was shining over the dim 
valley, through which the river winded like a silver serpent. 
A profound stillness reigned in the air. Here and there a 
little light glittered amongst the hills. The moment was an 
impressive one. At our request the Signorina took up her 
guitar, singing us some very delightful songs, some of them 
specially belonging to the district where she resided ; and 
then we retired to rest, happy at the close of a happy day. 

The next day was chiefly spent in wandering about the 
town and sketching, material for which is here abundant. 
Whilst we were sitting in the house in the evening Basileo, 
our promised guide, came in, drew a chair into the 
circle, and joined in the conversation. Here indeed the 
kind of sacred'ness which belongs to the English household 
did not appear to be at all understood, for presently a 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCO RAN O TO TODL 



229 



woman with a child on some little errand entered in the 
same unceremonious manner, as if the privilege of the house 
were free to all. Basileo told us that the nearest place 
where we should be able to spend the night in our forward 
journey was Bagnorea, at a distance of about twenty-five 
miles from Orte. At this place Signor F — had a friend, 
to whom he gave us a letter, sending also a little barrel of 
wine as an additional recommendation. It was finally 
arranged that Basileo should be ready the following morn- 
ing with four horses at daybreak. 

Accordingly, with many farewells to our kind host and 
hostess, the next morning we departed after the usual 
number of delays, and a great deal of fumbling to attach 
our travelling-bags to the horses. As we left Orte the 
morning was slowly unfolding — bands of vapour clinging to 
the hills, or reposing in the mountain hollows. At intervals 
broken mediaeval towers rose from the rocks, every one of 
which had its history in the belligerent ages, the river mists 
creeping about their forlorn walls as if to hide their naked- 
ness and ruin. Underneath the dusty grey- olives shepherds 
rested on their staves, whilst their flocks strayed on the 
newly-shorn stubble amidst the gentle tinkling of fitful bells. 
On a lofty elevation the town of Bassano rose on our left, 
whilst at our right the river wandered away in whispering 
shallows or slumbered in silent pools ; groves of poplars 
lining its wide banks, and casting tremulous reflections into 
the water. Spreading fields of grain or pulse intermingled 
with orchards and groves, on which yet lay the silence of 
the morning, made up the scene — a very soothing and tran- 
quillizing one. Presently we entered a thick wood of fine 
old trees echoing with the songs of hundreds" of birds, 
amongst which the chu chu of the nightingale was particu- 
larly distinguishable. As each embowered ravine was passed 
the eye was carried into endless vistas of dim foliage, over 
which was drawn a thin blue veil of subtle vapour. Several 
quaint towns or villages shone down upon us from their 
heights as we passed beneath them, some of which we should 



23° 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



have been glad to explore pencil in hand, if time had 
allowed. We had several small streams to cross. After 
passing one of these we were alarmed by cries of distress. 
On turning round I saw H — seated, not very comfortably, 
on the ground, his horse quietly stalking away without him. 
The animal had put his foot into a hole and fallen, fortu- 
nately just after having passed the stream. The rider, how- 
ever, was soon reinstated, and no particular damage done. 
About noon we reached our resting-place, more than mid- 
way of the journey, at a little town called San Michele, 
where our guide had some acquaintances, and promised us 
un buon pranzo (a good dinner). Unfortunately, however, 
no place could be found for our horses. In vain we 
passed and repassed the burning street to find so much as 
a shed or sheltered corner where the poor beasts could be 
protected from the rays of the sun. There was no such 
thing in the whole place. At last we were permitted to tie 
them in a little court, and after much trouble found a bundle 
or two of dry stalks which was called hay. Here they 
amused themselves by creeping as near to each other as pos- 
sible, as if with the friendliest intentions, and then viciously 
kicking each other. In the attempt to separate them during 
one of these skirmishes I received a violent kick myself on 
the thigh ; fortunately I was too near the heels of the brute 
to suffer any serious injury. Basileo in the meantime 
talked, talked loudly and constantly, over all the plans in 
the world to secure the horses, but did nothing, being 
evidently about as great an adept in regard to horses as 
Mr. Charles Swidger junior was in the art of navigation — 
"which knew nothing of boats whatever." Certainly the 
poor horses, in spite of their exciting and animated procli- 
vities, had the worst of it ; for we were taken to the doctor 
of the place, where an abundant and sufficiently good dinner 
was found for us, to which we did ample justice. After 
dinner we were allowed to doze for half an hour in the 
doctor's bedchamber. I occupied myself with examining his 
library, which was of a rather miscellaneous sort, on a 



Chap. IX. 



FROM S CORA NO TO TOD I. 



231 



little side table. The only medical books I observed had 
at least the weight of antiquity to recommend them ; though 
I confess I was irreverent enough to hope that I might be 
preserved from the medical treatment of Hippocrates and 
Galen. Scarcely had our eyes been closed in a comfortable 
nap before Basileo knocked at the door, saying it was time 
to go forwards. Presently we were equipped and again on 
our way. Passing through wide districts of waving corn we 
entered an oak wood, offering exquisite vignettes of forest 
pastoral scenery. The ground was covered with soft green 
turf. The trees were embowered high above us, through the 
thick foliage of which the sun here and there fell, enamelling 
the sward with patches of glittering gold. Thus pursuing our 
way Basileo entertained H — with an account of the ma- 
rauders of some malviventi, or, in plain English, brigands, who 
had infested the wood a few days before. We, however, 
presently emerged into the open, and after a while entered 
upon a high-road, which soon brought us within sight of our 
destination. 

It was on one of those golden evenings so common in 
Italy, but which are never seen in northern latitudes, that 
the first view of the town of Bagnorea met us across a deep 
ravine, its row of white houses enriched with the gorgeous 
hues of the setting sun. Up and down our way led us, 
until we entered the town. As soon as we did so, and 
Basileo had signified his desire to find a place of lodging 
for his horses, a crowd of gabblers came round us, all speak- 
ing at once. Presently we dismounted, the horses being led 
off in triumph by the vociferous multitude. Curiosity, or 
rather humanity, prompted me to see what might be their 
future condition. I found them at the far end of a black- 
smith's shop without any straw or other accommodation. 
In vain we pointed out that there were proper stables, as 
set forth in an advertisement over the door, a little lower 
down the street. We were compelled at last to leave the 
matter in the hands of Basileo, who flew hither and thither 
in the hubbub, too excited to listen to anything. 



232 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



It was suggested by my friends that instead of troubling 
the friend of our host at Orvieto we might very well find out 
the best inn in the place and go to it at once. I agreed, but 
with misgivings. It turned out that there was only one 
establishment in the whole place bearing the name of 
osteria, and thither we went. Its first appearance was not 
promising ; but things might be somewhat better than they 
looked ; they often are in Italy. On inquiry, we found 
there was but one bedchamber, but it was large, and 
had several beds in it, if the gentlemen could accommodate 
themselves. H — went to see it ; but the horrors of that 
prison-house were never completely unfolded. Enough. 
We at once bore our note and the barrel of wine to Signor 
M— . 

Signor M — was a young married man, a half-pay in 
the pope's service, having held a position under the pon- 
tifical government, living under the expectation that the old 
dominion would reassert its sway. He received us very 
kindly, and was sorry that his establishment did not allow 
him to offer us accommodation in his own house. Indeed, 
it was with great difficulty that we obtained lodgment at 
all ; for although Bagnorea is by no means an insignificant 
town in regard to size, we were told that so few strangers 
came there, that the inhabitants never thought of providing 
anything more than they wanted themselves. At last we 
found two rooms in separate houses, where we were lodged 
decently, and fed tolerably — quite as well, perhaps, as we 
might expect of a place so much out of the world. 

Bagnorea was the Balneum Regis of the ancients, formerly 
celebrated for its hot-water springs, which have now ceased 
to flow in consequence of the earthquakes to which the 
town and its neighbourhood have been subjected. In the 
year sixteen hundred and ninety-five a great part of the 
town was destroyed by one. It was conquered by the 
Longobards in six hundred and six, and afterwards restored 
to the papacy, first by Charlemagne and then by Otho 
the Second, in the tenth century. It was once under the 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORAXO TO TOD I. 



233 



government of cardinal legates, together with the provinces 
of Viterbo. One of these legates was Cardinal Pole, 
cousin to Henry the Eighth of England. The town is com- 
posed of one long street that runs to the edge of an enor- 
mous volcanic basin, perhaps a couple of miles in diameter, 
from the centre of which rises a lofty cone, composed of 
striated volcanic matter, upon which stands an almost de- 
serted grey mediaeval town, called Civita Bagnorea, over- 
topped by a tall square- built campanile. Its picturesqueness, 
both externally and in the rambling windings of its narrow 
lanes, is wonderful. Many architectural fragments of antique 
Roman workmanship lie scattered about, or are built into 
the walls, and several ancient columns are set up in front of 
the cathedral. The approach to this little town is still more 
marvellous. It is only accessible by narrow ridges or walls 
with abrupt sides left in the gradual falling away of the 
volcanic matter of which the stratum of this district is 
composed. These traverse the profound gulf from the 
table-land by which it is surrounded like narrow walls 
stretched across abysses which make one giddy to look at, 
much less pass over. The one adjoining Bagnorea furnishes 
a somewhat nervous pathway ; but those on the other side 
of the basin are much narrower and loftier ; so that the 
groups of peasantry with their donkeys as they follow their 
course seem suspended in the air. During a high wind 
these pathways, which I was told are not more than three 
feet wide in many places, are particularly perilous ; cases 
have been known of persons having been blown from them 
into the abyss beneath. 

It was the day of a festa whilst we were there ; all the 
characteristic finery of the townsfolk and surrounding 
country being brought out for the occasion. The dress of 
the women was particularly picturesque. It consisted of a 
snow-white linen head-dress, a low, coloured, stiff boddice, 
a gay handkerchief over the shoulders, and a coloured skirt, 
most commonly blue. 

The quaint little town of Civita Bagnorea was the birth- 



THE PILGRIMAGE OE THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



place of St. Bonaventure, for his piety and learning called 
the ' seraphic doctor ;' a man so remarkable in his day, and 
now so lost sight of beneath the accumulation of centuries, 
that a few words on his life and character may not be 
unwelcome. 

He was born of pious parents in the year one thousand 
two hundred and twenty-one. His proper name was John 
of Fidanza. It is said that St. Francis of Assisi, Avhen 
dying, exclaimed of Giovanni, who had been healed by his 
prayers of a severe illness in infancy, " O buona ventura !' 
(O happy fortune !), from which circumstance he took the 
name by which he was afterwards generally known. At the 
age of twenty-two he assumed the Franciscan habit, and 
afterwards became the first general of the order. He was 
sent to Paris, where he studied under John of Hales, an 
Englishman, who used to say of him, that in Bonaventure 
the sin of Adam was not discernible. The legates of Pope 
Gregory the Tenth brought him the cardinal's hat during his 
stay at a convent a few leagues from Florence, where they 
found him occupied in washing the dishes of the convent. 
Without ceasing his task, he bade them hang it on a 
neighbouring tree until he had finished. His humility 
and activity for the good of others knew no bounds. 
He died in one thousand two hundred and forty, in 
his fifty-third year, and was canonized by Sixtus the Fifth 
in fourteen hundred and eighty-two. He left numerous 
works behind him written in Latin, all of them distinguished 
by a profound spiritual mysticism, great fervency, and an 
irresistible incisiveness and penetration of style. He was 
possessed of a large vein of poetry — implied even in the 
names of some of the works he wrote, as " The Nightingale 
of the Passion of our Lord fitted to the Seven Hours,'' 
" The Six Wings of the Cherubim and the Six Wings of the 
Seraphim," "The Soul's Journey to God." The theologic, 
or, perhaps, it should rather be called the theosophic, 
philosophy of St. Bonaventure is founded upon the prin- 
ciples of a very solid induction, a substantial positivism, 



Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TODI. 



235 



which is the only true basis of theology, as it is of every 
other science. He proceeds from the known to the un- 
known, from sense to spirit. He carries the mortal and 
sensible up to the Divine' rather than attempts to bring 
the Divine down to the human level. His doctrine is 
eminently one of development and progress based upon 
actual experience ; each state or condition of the graduating 
soul being generated by the antecedent one, and producing 
another still more elevated to succeed it. One of the best 
representative and most characteristic of his works is, " The 
Soul's Journey to God," Itinerarium Mentis in Deum.* It 
is a mystical and semi-philosophical disquisition on the 
Highest Good, which he makes to consist in the soul's union 
with its Creator attained through six steps or grades, as 
follows : First, By means of the vestiges of God in the 
outward world of creation ; second, By the same world of 
sense as the habitation of God in essence and presence ; 
third, By the mind as made in his image ; fourth, By faith 
in the transforming power of Christ ; fifth, By the light of 
the Holy Spirit ; sixth, By the contemplation of the 
Blessed Trinity, in which is contained the sum of perfect 
good. These steps he makes to correspond to the senses, 
the imagination, reason, intellect, intelligence, and the 
elevation of the mind in the apprehension of Truth ; and 
again, to the six days of the week, the seventh being the 
sabbath of rest attained in the condition of a divine ecstasy. 
I will give a short extract from this work, to make his 
system or mode of view the more clear. 

" Happiness," he says, " being nothing else than the 
fruition of the highest good, and the highest good being 

* Amedee de Margerie, in his essay on the Philosophy cf St. Bonaventure, 
says : " Nous n'hesiterons pas a le dire : si X Itinerarium Mentis in Deum 
est une desplus belles consecrations que la philosophie ait faites aDieu de 
toutes les facultes humaines, le Commentaire sur le li<vre des Sentences 
contient une des plus excellentes thtodicees qu'ait produites jusqu'ici 
l'alliance de la foi et de la raison, une des plus victorieuses rtponses qu'on 
puisse donner a ceux qui nient l'influence du christianisme pour elever et 
transformer la raison humaine." 



236 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



above us, no one can become happy and blessed excepting 
by raising himself above himself, not in bodily ascension, 
but in the elevation of the heart. To attain the first 
principle, which is spiritual and eternal, and above us, it 
is necessary to pass through the corporal and temporal ; 
which is outside of us : this is to be led in the way of 
God. We must also enter into our own minds, which are 
the image of God, eternal and spiritual within us : this is to 
walk in the truth of God. Moreover we must pass to the 
eternal Spirit, regarding the First Principle : this is to rejoice 
in the tidings of God and in the reverence of his majesty." 

In his Soliloquies he says, " I will return from the ex- 
ternal to the internal, and from the internal I will ascend to 
the supernal, that I may know whence I came and whither 
I go, wherefore I am and what I am ; and so by the know- 
ledge of myself I may ascend to the knowledge of God." 

Dante introduces Bonaventure in the ' Paradiso' as singing 
the praises of St. Dominic. 

Of Bonaventure I the vital part, 
From Bagnoregio, who always set 
The meaner for the nobler cares aside.* 

He is also conspicuously represented in Raphael's fresco 
of the Disputa in the Vatican. 

The next stage of our journey was from Bagnorea to 
Orvieto, a distance of about ten miles. This we performed 
partly on foot and partly on the backs of asses, accompanied 
by a cheery and astute countryman of a good manly type, 
who entertained us on the way with some racy information 
concerning his country and people, touched now and then 
with that good-natured and sceptical kind of sarcasm which 
has obtained the name of Macchiavelism. The country was 
very peaceful and quiet — the very ideal of the 'Golden 
Age,' when everybody was occupied in rural pursuits, and 

* Io son la vita di Bonaventure 

Da Bagnoregio, che ne' grandi uffici 
Sempre posposi la sinistra cura. 

c. xii. 127. 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



the simplest form of agricultural practice was the traditional 
heritage from father to son. Shepherds, leaning upon their 
staves beneath the shade of the brown olive, watched their 
flocks all day. The swineherd tended his swarthy multi- 
tude. Bullocks in affectionate pairs drew loads of corn and 
other produce on sledges along the worst of roads ; the use 
of wheels being apparently unknown, or perhaps set aside 
as a useless modern invention calculated to destroy the 
severe simplicity of the pastoral life. The bullocks accus- 
tomed to be yoked together, our guide told us, sometimes 
grew so affectionate to each other that it was difficult to 
separate them : neither the one nor the other would allow a 
rival in the affections of his companion without showing the 
utmost jealousy and uneasiness. In spite of the primitive- 
ness of agricultural operations, the country did not appear to 
be wanting in wealth, judging from the not infrequent villas 
and large houses surrounded by groves and orchards which 
were scattered at intervals on our way ; looking, it is true, 
as if uninhabited ; for never a living soul was seen about 
them, as they blinked, bare and white, with closed jalousies 
in the hot sunshine. Then there were deep and shady 
lanes bordered with hazels and feathery ferns, through 
which the sun, here and there, shot bright shafts of light, 
making glad the hearts of joyful birds ; there were hedge- 
rows garlanded with white roses fencing in the green vine- 
yards ; there were tall palmy-leaved chestnuts showing an 
abundance of bristly fruit fast ripening in the heat of 
summer, and then beautiful upland slopes of corn waving 
in the wind, and yellow for the sickle of the reaper. At 
last we reached a quaint mediaeval village or little town 
called Porano, girt about with sturdy walls, and having a 
massive old towered gateway for entrance. Amidst the 
wonder of the inhabitants we traversed the narrow street, 
and entering the back-room of an osteria, the walls of which 
were decorated with landscapes in distemper of the usual 
order, found a welcome refreshment in some tolerable wine. 
A few miles more, and we came upon the valley of the 



237 



2 3 8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



Paglia — a tributary of the Tiber, which it joins three or 
four miles lower down — and after pausing a few minutes to 
examine the ruins of an old abbey, of which strange stories 
are told, we crossed the river and ascended the height upon 
which Orvieto is built 

Remote and high, 
Which from the ancient Romans had its name, 
Who thither went because the air is pure.* 

Orvieto is the ancient Etruscan town Herbanum, men- 
tioned by Pliny. It afterwards appears to have borne 
the name of Urbs Vetus, of which its modern one is a 
corruption. Long before Roman rule, however, it must 
have been an important Etruscan town or city. Numerous 
tombs of very ancient origin were discovered in eighteen 
hundred and sixty-three on the opposite side of the valley 
across the river, two of which still remain open. They are, 
like many other Etruscan tombs, placed at the end of long 
galleries cut into the rock, the galleries or passages being 
about thirty-five yards long. They have arched ceilings cut 
into the shape of planks sloping from a transverse beam^ 
the sides being decorated with very beautiful paintings of 
men and animals, the former almost Phoenician in type. 
Numbers of figures are seated at a banquet, or perhaps a 
funeral feast, which is pictured in all its stages, from the 
kitchen where the slaves are busied in the offices of cooking, 
to its being served on the table. In one of them is a plain 
sarcophagus of arenaceous tufa. There are several 
Etruscan inscriptions on the walls. Numerous others have 
been opened in the same cliff, some of them containing 
articles of jewelry, utensils, etc, but none of them painted, 
with the exception of these two. 

The situation of the town is extremely picturesque. It 
is built on a steep table-rock rising from the valley of the 

* La citta d'Urbivieto c alta e strana : 
Questa da' Roman vecchi il nome prese, 
Ch'andavan la perche l'aere v'e sana. 

Fazio degli Ubertj, // Dittamondo. 



Chap. IX. 



239 



Paglia, whose boundaries are penetrated by the ravines of 
tiny streams which course the hills to reach the river. The 
view of the city from beneath is particularly imposing, its 
lofty line coursing the sky, conspicuously broken by the 
tall facade of the cathedral, which is everywhere visible. 
Inside it still retains traces of mediaeval habitudes in its 
narrow streets, quaint architecture, and half-ruined old 
moated castle at the eastern extremity of the hill. 

The name of England or Englishman figures more than 
once in the history of Orvieto : first in thirteen hundred 
and sixty-five, when a certain Andrew Belmont, who was 
probably an English adventurer or condottiere, with a 
company of his countrymen, in the interests of the Church, 
opposed Annechino di Rougardo, head of the German 
forces. The former were, however, worsted ; the Germans 
leaving the country on payment of a subsidy. Belmont 
had afterwards a quarrel with Gomez, the nephew of the 
pope's legate, who left the English camp secretly by night, 
and went to Orvieto. The English, however, immediately 
encamped on the plains of the Paglia, beneath the town, 
awaiting payment for their services to the Church, com- 
mitting great havoc and depredations in the surrounding 
territory in the meantime. The deputy legate Gomez upon 
this recalled to him the successful Annechino, together 
with other allies, who drove the English, bitterly complain- 
ing of their unfair treatment, in the direction of Perugia. 
When they arrived at a place called Santo Mariano a 
battle took place, the Perugians joining the forces of the 
Church, many English being slain and two hundred taken 
prisoners to Perugia. They were afterwards liberated 
under certain conditions ; but they quickly rallied, and 
being joined by numerous other marauders, both Italian 
and German, they defeated the Perugians in an engage- 
ment, and then set themselves to ravage the country as 
before.* 

The name of Orvieto appears again in English history in 
* See Cronaca d' Orvieto dal 1342 al 1368. Milano. 1845. 



240 



THE TIL G RIM A GE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



fifteen hundred and twenty-eight, when Dr. Stephen 
Gardiner, Wolsey's secretary, and Dr. Edward Fox, almoner 
to Henry the Eighth, were sent on an embassy to Pope 
Clement the Seventh, at that time a refugee in Orvieto after 
the siege and sack of Rome already described, in order to 
obtain his permission for the king's divorce from Catherine 
of Aragon. A letter written by them during their stay at 
Orvieto is so characteristic and graphic in its details, that I 
shall here transcribe it. It is dated the twenty-third of 
March. 

" Pleaseth it your grace to understand that we arrived 
here at Orviett upon Saturday last past, in the morning, 
and having no garments ne apparel other than the coats 
we did ride in, being much worn and defaced by reason of 
the foul weather ; advertising the pope's holiness of our 
coming by Mr. Gregorie, we were compelled to tarry all 
that day and the next day within the house whiles our 
garments were at the making ; wherein we thought very 
great difficulty, all things here being in such a scarcity and 
dearth as we think hath not been seen in no place ; and 
that not only in victual, which cannot be brought into the 
town, in no great quantity, by reason that all things is 
conveyed by asses and mules, but also in other necessaries, 
so as that cloth, chamlett, or such like merchandises, which 
in England is worth twenty shillings is here worth six 
pound, and yet not to be had in any quantity ; and had 
we not made provision for our gowns at Luke [Lucca] we 
must of necessity have gone in Spanish cloaks, such as we 
could have borrowed of the pope's servants, wherein per- 
adventure should have been found some difficulty, foras- 
much, as far as we can perceive, few men here have more 
garments than one. And had not Mr. Gregorie resided 
here, and, advertised of our coming, made preparation for 
our lodging, borrowing, as he said, of divers men so much 
as might furnish us three beds, we had been [in ill case]* at 

* I have conjecturally supplied this lacuna. I found the letter, in the 
first instance, in Mr. Pocock's edited " Records of the Reformation." On 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODL 



241 



our coming into this town, being a very foul day, as hath 
been seen, and we within a mile of the town compelled to 
pass a river on horseback, wherein we rode so deep as the 
water came almost to our girdelsced, and so wet us, as 
upon that surfeit one of our servants is at this house in 
extreme danger of life, and rather like to die than live, 
whose death should be as great loss as can be in a young 
man, being himself singularly well learned in physic, in the 
Greek and Latin tongues, as any we know. We suppose 
you know him well ; his name is Richard Herde. He was 
wont to resort much to me, Stephyn Gardyner, there, and 
dwelleth with Master Chancellor of Duchie. If he skape 
it, the physicians here think it a great matter. Mr. Gregorie 
shewed us that midsummer there cometh a wind ab Austro 
which infecteth all men being in this city and not borne in 
these parts, pestilente morbo, by reason of a river coming 
within a mile of the city. It may well be called Urbs 
veins, for every man in all languages would give it none 
other name. We cannot well tell how the pope should be 
noted in liberty, being here where scarcity, ill-favoured 
lodging, ill-air, and many other incommodities, keep him 
and all his as straightly as he was ever kept in Castel 
Angel. It is aliqtta mutacio soli, scd nulla libertatis, and in 
manner the pope could not deny to Mr. Gregory, but it 
were better to be in captivity at Rome than here at liberty. 
The pope lieth in an old palace of the bishops of this city, 
ruinous and decayed, where, or we come to his pryvey 
chamber, we pass three chambers, all naked and unhanged, 
the roofs fallen down, and as we can guess thirty persons, 
rif raf and other, standing in the chambers for a garnish- 
ment. And as for the pope's bed-chamber, all the apparel 
in it was not worth twenty nobles, bed and all. It is a fall 
from the top of the hill to the lowliest part of the mountain, 
where was primus assensns, which every man in manner 

referring to the original, in the library of the British Museum [Harl. 419, 
fol. 72] in order to supply, if possible, what might here have been left out, 
I found Mr. Pocock had printed the letter exactly as he had found it. 

R 



2 4 2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



useth for his commodity. For besides that the Venetians, 
Duke of Ferrare and Florentynes have done, they of 
Viterbe rebell, and kepe off the city from the pope for their 
use, trusting that the Spaniards shall have the victory. 
Also Sigismundus de Maltesta hath entered again into 
Ariminum, which Monsieur de Lautreke restored to the 
pope, and keepeth it The pope is determined by the 
advice of such as he has about him to make two or three 
thousand of soteme* to expugne them of Viterbe to the 
intent he may have access at his pleasure to Rome, which 
now is letted by them. The victory in Naples is yet 
ambiguous, and here no certainty what they will do there ; 
some say they intend to strike battle— some nay." 

Some curious pictures of mediaeval life in Orvieto are 
presented to us in an old chronicle of the fourteenth cen- 
tury,! from which I will translate a few passages. The 
strong party spirit, remorseless cruelty, and vindictive ferocity 
of the time are well illustrated by the following extract. 

" On Wednesday, the twenty-second of February, one 
thousand three hundred and forty-six, in the third hour — 
that is, on the festival of the Chair of St. Peter, a dis- 
turbance was raised by Benedetto di Bonconte and all the 
Guelphs of Orvieto with him crying, 1 Success to the 
Guelphs and death to the Ghibellines !' Presently a part of 
them went to the house of Leonardo and another part to the 
Piazza del Popolo to encounter the captain. The captain fled, 
seeking shelter in the church of St. Dominic, the Ghibellines 
not being able to unite themselves nor to succour Leonardo ; 
and so they were discomfited and driven away, and Leo- 
nardo was besieged in his stronghold and kept there until 
the first sleep, and then it was given up to Benedetto di 
Bonconte ; and Benedetto took Leonardo and led him away 
prisoner to the fortress of the Sberni, which belonged to 

* I do not know the meaning of this term. 

f Cronaca d' Orvieto dal 1342 al 1363. Gia publicato da Ludovico 
Antonio Muratori. ed ora in piu comoca forma ridotta e diligentemente 
corretta. Milano. 1845. 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO T0D1. 



243 



Benedetto. After this there came many horse and foot 
from the country of Perugia in aid of the Guelph party. 
Leonardo was kept prisoner at the fortress until the twenty- 
seventh of March, and on that day was given up to master 
Matteo degli Orsini, who took him to Mugnano, and then 
from Mugnano to Rome, where he arrived on the eighth of 
April, that is to say the eve of Palm Sunday ; and on the 
Monday of Holy Week, which was the tenth of April, 
the son of master Matteo caused a carriage of wood 
to be made and Leonardo to be placed upon it naked, 
bound to a post, and to be wrung with heated pincers in 
various parts of Rome, and then to be cut all to pieces 
in the piazza before the castle of St. Angelo, the fragments 
being afterwards gathered and thrown piece by piece into 
the Tiber. So Leonardo died ; and it was said in Orvieto 
that Benedetto had money sent to him from Rome for 
giving up Leonardo. And so Benedetto remained lord of 
Orvieto, and he caused the stronghold of Leonardo to be 
pulled down, and denounced many Ghibellines. .Thus was 
accomplished the vengeance of master Matteo degli Orsini." 

Although the old chronicle above quoted only goes over 
a period of twenty-one years, the number of misfortunes 
and disasters which are noted as having occurred during 
that time are something incredible. It would seem as if 
all the powers of nature and all the adverse forces of social 
dislocation had conspired against the miserable inhabitants 
of the city : and yet it does not appear that they were 
worse off than those of other Italian cities of the same 
period. Here is a sad picture — more sad, perhaps, than 
wonderful to those who know the condition of some modern 
Italian towns even, in which the traditional slovenliness 
of the middle ages as to drainage and other conveniences 
is probably very faithfully preserved. 

" In the calends of May, in the year one thousand three 
hundred and forty, there began to be a great mortality 
amongst the inhabitants of Orvieto, which went on in- 
creasing day by day until the months of June and July^ 

R 2 



244 



THE PILGRIMAGE OT THE 7 IBER. Chap. IX. 



when there had died five hundred Christians between great 
and small, male and female. The mortality was so great 
and the fear of it so strong amongst the people that they 
died quite suddenly : one morning they were well and the 
next dead. All work was suspended. This mortality 
lasted until the calends of September, whence many families 
and houses perished, it being calculated that by the time 
it had ceased, a ninth part of the inhabitants had died, 
those that were left remaining infirm and terrified, abandon- 
ing their houses to the dead." 

Not very long afterwards an earthquake was added to 
their list of misfortunes : 

" On Wednesday before the third hour, that is on the 
ninth of September, in the year one thousand three hundred 
and forty-nine, there was a great earthquake which threw 
down many walls and large edifices, towers and residences : 
also the water of the fountains of Orvieto became so turbid 
as to present the appearance of milk and earth mixed 
together ; and so it remained for more than twelve days. 
And as it was in Orvieto so was it also in many other 
towns and villages, whence the people became alarmed ; 
no labour being followed for more than six days ; and every 
day there were processions and discipline." 

They had scarcely recovered from the earthquake before 
the city was wasted by a dreadful famine. 

In the year one thousand three hundred and fifty-one 
there arose a great civil contention, a part of the inhabit- 
ants of Orvieto and its territory being without the city 
and opposing those within. The commune of Perugia was 
called upon to mediate between them. The contending 
parties were at last brought together, and it was finally 
concluded that the magistracy of Perugia should be esta- 
blished in Orvieto. It was, however, quite insufficient- to 
maintain order and justice ; robbery and violence con- 
tinally occurring in the city. " Before the agreement wa9 
made between the belligerents by this intervention, you 
must know," says the historian, "there was the greatest 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



245 



scarcity of every kind of provision ; for nothing to support 
life was allowed to enter the city. Flour was not to be 
had because the mills were ruined and no one was per- 
mitted to go out to repair them ; so that the people had 
to grind their corn with handmills within the city, neither 
in this were they altogether successful, since only a part 
of them had the means to accomplish it. Pork was very 
dear, being three soldi the pound ; lamb three soldi ; and 
mutton three soldi and a half, and this very bad ; and 
sometimes it happened that none at all could be had. 
There was no water but that from the cisterns, which was 
little enough, besides being putrescent, muddy, and rank, 
so that many persons strained it for cookery and drinking. 
Of vegetables there were scarcely any, and those who 
were able to buy them could hardly have enough for four 
persons for four soldi which were fit to eat ; and fre- 
quently such were eaten as would not have been looked at 
in more prosperous times. Wood was dear, and none 
could be obtained excepting from the houses which were 
ruined throughout the city. Of salt there was little, and 
those who had it would not sell it for less than at the rate 
of twenty lire the quartengo. In this condition the city 
stood ; so that every Orvietan was badly off ; those within 
not being able to go out to their farms and estates with 
security, neither could those without return to their houses ; 
for Benedetto di Bonconte and the sons of Pepo with their 
families and friends drove them away with injury, doing 
them every possible outrage ; each party striving to gain 
an advantage over its adversary by taking possession of the 
castles and strongholds ; those without endeavouring to 
enter the city by force, those within keeping watch and 
ward day and night : and in this manner they remained 
for the space of three months, each attacking the other 
as he saw his advantage." 

One more extract from the history of Ciprian Manente 
shall complete our illustration of its mediaeval condition. 

" In the year one thousand four hundred and forty-nine 



246 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



Orvieto was under the government of Arrigo, brother of 
Gentile di Monaldeschi della Vipera, who was called Gentile 
della Scala from being the proprietor of that place. During 
the fourteen years that he had been in possession of Orvieto 
he had prevented the Monaldeschi of Cervara with other 
nobles and citizens of the Beffati faction from entering the 
city, without recognising the pontificate of Rome ; although 
the pope as well as the Beffati had tried more than once to 
take the city from his tyrannical hands : to which end many 
secret meetings between the Monaldeschi and others had 
been convened at Bolsena, but without finding any way 
to accomplish their purpose, the city being always well 
guarded, although it had been brought to a state of great 
calamity by reason of a pestilence of which a great many 
of the inhabitants had died. But, as God pleased, it 
happened that a mode of operation was offered by Gual- 
tieri, a poor man of Porano, small of stature, but astute, 
who entering Orvieto ill-clothed, and as a mendicant, went 
to the hospital, and in the morning stood at the door of 
the cathedral asking alms, in order that he might see the 
people and observe how things were going. Also during 
the day he went through the city and round the fortifica- 
tions, begging in the same manner, but taking all the notice 
he could of the persons he met and their procedure ; then 
after having observed everything, he left the city and went 
to the Beffati, showing them everything and arranging 
what it was desirable to do. Accordingly, one evening, 
Gualtieri returned to Orvieto with an iron nail of a pound 
and a half weight, together with a long cord, concealed in 
a bundle of wood, and went to the hospital without exciting 
the suspicion of any one. When he saw the opportunity, 
having privately taken away a hammer from the workshop 
of Santa Maria, he fixed the nail to the projection of the 
fortification under the guard-house of San Francesco, and 
then hid the hammer ; doing all with so much dexterity 
that the guard perceived nothing of it. He then gave a 
sign to Beffati, who was hidden in a neighbouring orchard. 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



247 



On the night of Santa Lucia, the thirteenth of December, 
the guard was changed, and when the patrol was past, 
Gualtieri went to the place where he had fixed the nail, 
and throwing down the cord, drew up a ladder of ropes 
which the Beffati had brought, by means of which Signor 
Corrado with seventy men of the Beffati faction quickly 
mounted the defences, seizing the guard and other patrols 
which were around, preventing them from crying out or 
uttering a word by holding them bound in the guardhouse 
with the sword at their throats. As Signor Corrado and 
his followers were going by the street of San Francesco, they 
met a tame deer, which had been reared in the house of 
Signor Gentile, which, having bells about its neck, and 
returning towards the house along the street in front of 
the Beffati, was in a great measure the reason of their not 
being heard at first by Signor Arrigone. This was taken 
as a fresh augury by Monaldeschi della Cervara.* Then 
all of them went to Santa Maria, and flinging themselves 
on their knees on the steps, vowed to deliver the city from 
the tyrant, as far as possible without injury to any one. 
Then they went to the house of Arrigo (now belonging to 
Petrucci) who hearing the noise, without waiting for help 
from his people, who had not yet risen, rushed out with 
a pike, and although he was warned if he did not retire 
he would be killed, paying no heed to the warning, he 
was immediately slain. The Beffati then hastened to the 
principal piazza, where there was a body of guards, with 
whom an encounter took place. Tomasso di Francesco 
Mazzochi, the head of the guard, being killed. The rest 
were put to flight and made prisoners ; which being done, 
the Beffati immediately rang the great bell of the church 
of Sant Andrea, upon which Paolpietro, together with 
many others from the neighbouring territories, and fifty 
bowmen, broke down the gates with the help of those 
already within the city, entering the city at dawn amidst 

* Cervara means a deer. Probably the family device corresponded with 
the name. 



248 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



cries of Peace, peace ! the which being heard by the Mal- 
corini, as they perceived their leader dead, they made no 
further movement. Thus was Orvieto retaken by the 
Beffati and consigned to the rule of Pope Nicholas the 
fifth ; the news being sent quickly to Rome." 

By far the most interesting object in Orvieto is the cathe- 
dral, built in alternate courses of the dark-coloured basaltic 
lava and yellowish limestone which is found in the neighbour- 
hood. Tradition assigns its origin to a miracle which oc- 
curred near the lake of Bolsena : the same that has been 
represented by Raphael on the walls of the Vatican. A 
German priest who had disbelieved in the Real Presence, was 
convinced by the host in his hands dropping blood. The 
elements and other relics were then brought to the pope, 
Urban the fourth, at that time resident at Orvieto, who 
met them on the way ; the cathedral being afterwards 
commenced to enshrine them, towards the end of the 
thirteenth century. Mr. Hemans, in his "Mediaeval Chris- 
tianity and Sacred Art in Italy," gives some interesting 
particulars relative to the building of this cathedral. He 
says : " Pope Clement the sixth granted an indulgence to 
all who should visit Orvieto for devotional purposes ; which 
spiritual favours were doubled in an indulgence from 
Gregory the ninth, obtainable by all who should assist at 
the works for this new cathedral. Then were seen citizens 
of all classes co-operating, besides multitudes of pilgrims, 
who, after attending religious services, would spend the 
rest of the day in doing what they could to help the 
masons, stone-cutters, or other artizans at the sacred 
building. Persons of good condition carried burdens on 
their shoulders ; and those who could not do rough work 
brought drink or food to the labourers, enabling them to 
refresh themselves without leaving the spot. It is one of 
the proofs how utterly were Sabbatarian notions foreign 
to the mediaeval mind, even while religious influences were 
at the greatest height, that Sundays and other festivals 
were marked by special activity (in the hours, namely, after 



Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 



249 



the principal rites were over) during the progress of these 
labours. Companies of artists were sent to seek and to 
work the most suitable marbles at Rome, Siena, and 
Corneto ; and such prepared material used to be brought 
to Orvieto by buffaloes, or (if from Rome) up the Tiber as 
far as Orte." * 

Amongst the artists deputed to embellish the cathedral 
was Luca d' Egidio Ventura, or Luca Signorelli, as he is 
generally called, born at Cortona in the year one thousand 
four hundred and forty-one. He was the connecting link 
between the Umbrian school of Piero della Francesca, and 
the higher development of the Florentine manner under 
Michael Angelo. Vasari says of him that he .awoke the 
minds of all those who came after him, and that Michael 
Angelo was much indebted to him. With as much power 
and greatness of conception as Michael Angelo, he had a 
narrower field of expression. The artistic means at his 
disposal were fewer, owing to his priority in time ; but he 
had within him wells of tenderness and sweetness never 
touched by the great Florentine, as witness the beatified 
spirits in his Paradise* one of the frescoes on these walls, 
and the Santa Cecilia at Citta di Castello. It is a pity 
that the remoteness and diffusion of his works make a 
comparative study of them difficult to most art students.f 
His greatest, and, indeed, his representative, works are, 
however, here. 

These frescoes rank with the world's epics. There is 
nothing in art more nobly conceived, more powerfully and 
grandly expressed. They stand out with life-like fresh- 

* A History of Mediaeval Christianity and Sacred Art in Italy a.d. 900 
— 1350, by C. I. Hemans. Williams and Norgate, 1869. 

f There is a picture by him (figured in Crowe and C aval caselle's work) 
in private keeping at Florence, discovered of late years, which has been 
called the " School of Pan," once offered, I believe, to our National 
Gallery Commission at a price far from exorbitant. How it is possible 
that such a picture should have been resigned is beyond comprehension. 
It is an epitome of all that is great and noble in art — sufficient in itself to 
enrich a gallery and make a nation proud in its possession. 



250 



ness on the pages of Time, and their story is one which can 
never lose its interest so long as men and women are born 
to sin and sorrow, and with the desire to soar above them- 
selves in the power of a diviner nature. They treat of the 
great subjects — Good and Evil and their consequences. The 
first is the Fall of Antichrist, which for subtilty of rendering 
and manly vigour is unsurpassed in the history of art. 
Antichrist, the great power of Evil, falls amongst a group 
of persons to the left, striking some of them dead. The 
picture embraces many episodes ; but, perhaps, the most 
wonderful of all is the great group of the foreground, in the 
midst of which Antichrist stands upon a pedestal or altar, 
preaching to the people ; a horned fiend behind him, whis- 
pering in his ear. At his feet are laid bags of money, gold 
and silver vessels, with other worldly treasures. The type 
of his countenance and the foldings of his drapery are based 
upon the traditional form and manner in which our Lord is 
commonly represented. But what a difference ! Instead 
of the usual freely flowing wavy hair, this of Antichrist is 
carefully parted down the middle, oiled and curled with the 
utmost fastidiousness. The folds of his dress, too, and his 
attitude are both disposed in the most studied manner. In 
the face seem to be written in subtle and delicate characters 
the long results of selfishness, evil lusts and heartlessness ; 
a face one could not trust : full of the wisdom which comes 
of sin and worldly prejudice, but all glozed over with an 
almost dainty speciousness, the bad marks in it being half 
overlaid without being entirely concealed. All this is visible 
enough. Never did satire wield a sharper weapon, never 
did it cut so deep or wear a more serious dress. Of the 
group around him it would be long to tell. Here a young 
man in courtly garb sets his arms akimbo, and listens with 
a self-gratulatory satisfaction ; there a stalwart fellow, the 
very embodiment of brute power, stands with legs apart, 
turning his head to a neighbouring friar, evidently prepared 
for hot work if it should be required. Here a woman is 
receiving a bribe from the purse of a well-dressed citizen, 



Chap. rx. FROM SCORANA TO TODI. .. 251 



and there schoolmen and philosophers dispute on the 
doctrines they hear. On the left a deed of martyrdom and 
bloodshed is being perpetrated, near to which stand the 
portrait figures of Luca Signorelli and Fra Angelico, both 
robed in black, as spectators. No description can give 
any idea of the vast scenic power and intensity of this noble 
work. It speaks with a thousand tongues. 

Another of these wonderful frescoes represents the Resur- 
rection. Two angels standing upon the clouds, surrounded 
by cherubs, blow their trumpets over the world. The souls 
of men and women rise at the sound, some with their bodies, 
as in life, others as skeletons. One of the most powerful of 
these is that of a man who lifts himself out of the ground 
by pressing one hand upon the surface of the soil, and 
another upon the knee of his liberated leg. Another is being 
drawn up out of the ground by his two hands by a com- 
panion already risen ; others stand about in adoring grati- 
tude, or embrace each other with raptures of overflowing joy. 

A third of these paintings symbolizes the Torments of 
the Condemned. It is something almost too frightfully 
horrible to contemplate, so intensely realistic is it in its 
representation. The avenging angels stand above, whilst 
grisly fiends torment their miserable victims below. One 
of the most astounding of these groups is that of a hideous 
monster, who bears a woman on his back through the air, 
and turns up his face into hers with a diabolical grin. But 
perhaps the utmost power of the artist culminates in the 
figure of a man at the left, who is being thrust head fore- 
most into raging flames. As he gasps with head thrown 
back, and an expression of anguish on his face that is 
absolutely appalling, he presses his hands convulsively to his 
eyes, to protect himself from even the sight of the horrors 
which he has to endure. 

One more picture completes the series. It is the Reward 
of the Just. Newly risen spirits garlanded with flowers 
look up with a divine rapture, whilst angels place crowns 
of glory upon their heads, or floating in the sky strew them 



252 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



with showers of flowers. Through some of their faces the 
very soul seems to glow out in wells of living emotion. 
Angels above them play musical instruments. Life, joy, 
and animation are visible everywhere. 

Art can do no more than has been done in these pictures. 
They embrace all the tides of humanity ; they sound the 
full chord of its emotions ; they reach its deepest springs ; 
they touch its loftiest ascensions and elevations. Time only 
tells the old story over and over again : it will never be 
interpreted in a nobler or more comprehensive language 
than that in which it has found expression here. 

I shall not detain the reader any longer over this mag- 
nificent cathedral with its mosaic facade and grotesque 
carvings, nor over the many interesting and valuable works 
of art it contains. Neither shall I ask him to go to the vast 
well of St. Patrick, which marks the engineering skill of 
San Gallo : nor even to explore any more of the stream 
which has brought us from the main object of our journey. 

Along the whole course of the river Tiber, perhaps that 
part of its territory is the least known and most rarely 
traversed which lies between Orvieto and Todi — a distance 
of somewhat more than twenty miles following the course 
of the stream ; and this was to me a somewhat anxious 
part of the journey. In vain I inquired of the landlord of 
the hotel, the waiters, and at the caffe. Nobody knew if 
there was a practicable road or not anywhere within sight 
of the stream. At last a peasant was found — and a rough- 
looking fellow he was — who belonged to some part of the 
intervening country. So he was summoned to a colloquy. 
When I told him my wish to make the journey to Todi, 
skirting the banks of the river, of course, the first thing he 
suggested was that there was a good high-road on the other 
side of the mountains, almost new, by which I might arrive 
there with ease and comfort much sooner. Persisting in 
my intention to follow the course of the river, he said that 
it was quite impossible, that it was a strada orribile, a 
horrible road : in fact that there was no road at all, but rocks 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODL 



253 



and precipices, impenetrable woods, and dangerous streams 
— difficulties which it would be quite impossible to over- 
come. Did no one pass there ? I asked. No one, no one, he 
assured me ; unless it might be the peasants and charcoal 
burners here and there. Did he think he could find his 
way anywhere within sight of the river ? Well, perhaps he 
might, but it was quite impossible to approach it nearer 
than two or three miles. Finally I asked if he were willing 
to undertake the journey and make the best of it ; that is 
to say, to follow the banks of the river as nearly as might 
be practicable. This he agreed to do, promising to bring a 
couple of horses at daybreak the next morning, upon which 
to perform the journey. My friends would willingly have 
accompanied me during this stage also, but it was found 
that no more than a couple of saddle-horses could be 
obtained, owing to the harvest season ; so they undertook 
to follow the high road in a carriage, and rejoin me at 
Todi. 

Accordingly, the next morning my guide appeared ; and 
bidding farewell to my friends, after the usual adjustment 
of incompetent trappings, we started on our journey. As 
we passed through the town a sombre grey pervaded the 
still streets and houses, now and then a resounding footfall, 
besides those of our horses, waking a sleepy echo. After 
descending the hill upon which the town stands, we forded 
the Paglia a short distance down the stream, and were 
presently threading our upwards way along the left bank 
of the Tiber. At first we passed by rustic homesteads and 
noisy mills, amongst fields of hemp and Indian corn ; but 
soon the scenery became highly romantic, quite justi- 
fying the account given of it by my guide. For long 
distances no human voice was heard, no human face seen. 
Awful shades seemed to brood from ledge and precipice, 
whilst below them the river muttered and whispered in his 
course, the shadows of tall poplars streaking the pebbly 
banks, which were bleached to a ghastly whiteness with the 
wrath of many a winter's torrent. After a while we passed 



254 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX 



the walls of a desolate little village called Corbaro, once 
the stronghold of a powerful mediaeval family, and still 
retaining a warlike appearance. As it glared down from 
its barren shelf of rock it looked as if it might have been 
the residence of the genius of this weird territory. Grim 
and stern one might have imagined the knight-errant of 
old cautiously tracking his way in such a spot filled with 
vague fears of enchantment and treachery, scarcely daring 
to turn his head at the hoarse cawing of the crow or the 
scared cry of the magpie. He would certainly have mut- 
tered a paternoster and have grasped his lance more firmly 
amidst these lonely shades and unfriendly steeps as the 
river filled his ear with ominous murmurs and the poplars 
whispered to each other as if untoward spirits had found 
a place amongst their boughs and were plotting evil things 
against him. For some time the river was the sole clue 
to our course ; but presently we were obliged to diverge 
from its banks where the ground was cut with deep ravines 
by the torrents which in winter time pour from the hills. 
Pluneincr into a wilderness of stunted trees and brushwood, 
my guide confessed himself at fault, and there was nothing 
for it but to follow the direction as nearly as possible 
through the immense forests which here covered the valley 
and stretched up the sides of the mountains. Fortunately, 
after forcing our way through the brushwood without being 
able to see more than a few yards before and around us, 
we stumbled on a little patch of cultivated ground, where, 
not far from a cottage, a man was occupied in ploughing 
with a couple of oxen. We entreated his services to put 
us on some track which might lead us in the direction of 
our route, when he immediately left his plough, and accom- 
panying us a distance of two or three miles, gave directions 
to my companion by which we might be enabled to follow 
the right course. Soon the scene changed as if by the 
touch of magic. The village of Civitella de' Pazzi was 
seen to crown a distant summit. Soft and feathery foliage 
covered the hill-sides. The severe mountain forms moved 



Chap. IX. 



FROM S CORA NO TO TOD I. 



255 



into softer lines. A rich green mantled the rising heights 
upon which light and shadow lay mingled in masses of 
tender repose. Culture had half withdrawn the natural 
wildness of the landscape. Gorge beyond gorge the moun- 
tains opened their recesses. Undulating plains of grass were 
spotted with clumps of trees. The labourer sang at his toil. 
The sheep-bell mixed its sound with the gentle roar of the 
river. All was peace and intense loveliness. It seemed as 
if nature, friendly to the labours of man, smiled contentment 
on the scene in her happiest mood, weaving herself garlands 
of leaves and flowers all day long. Thus following its course 
by many a willowy bend and poplared shade the river led 
us from valley to valley, until the banks becoming more 
contracted, steeper, and still more gloomy, it began to 
complain in angry tones at its closer imprisonment. Finally 
abysmal gorges dropped sheer down through unmeasured 
depths to its dark bed, wherefrom the moon might be seen 
at noon between black plumes of ancestral pines, and then 
it took a wide sweep to the right, and plunged between 
two narrow walls where no road lay for mortal foot to 
follow it. 

Leaving its companionship for the moment we began to 
ascend the sides of the valley, through vast fragments of 
broken rock scattered about as if in mockery of order and 
law — up, up until the sky seemed nearer and the sharp 
mountain breeze blew keenly on our foreheads, drawing the 
dust into little eddies with a feeble wail. Then what a 
panorama lay beneath ! The long winding valley whose 
extent we had traversed lay below us like a map. Rocks, 
groves, farms, fields, villages, all giving variety to its area 
— a miniature world through which the serpentine river 
went from side to side, distributing greenness and fertility 
wherever its course lay. 

After riding some little distance across the mountain table- 
land we struck once more into a high road, and I was as- 
tonished to find my friends H. and B. comfortably seated 
at the door of a little osteria, where they had just finished 



2 5 6 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



such a meal as the place afforded. Whatever it had been, 
there was no great abundance, for my rustic companion 
and I had to be contented with some dark bread and hard 
cheese with a foglietta of indifferent wine. It seemed on 
this spot our roads met, and though my friends had never seen 
the Tiber for the mountains that lay between, they described 
the scenery they had passed through as of a very magni- 
ficent and romantic order. Presently we remounted our 
horses, and striking off the road to the right I endeavoured 
to regain the river, whilst my companions pursued their 
journey by the high road. The descent towards the river- 
valley beneath Todi was extremely picturesque. The sun 
had already passed the hour of noon. A soft blue haze 
overspread the landscape, which was seen in vignette-like 
glimpses through the branches of motionless trees. Nume- 
rous reapers were passing from farm to farm ; the whole 
valley vocal with their strange songs. Crossing the river by 
a handsome bridge we commenced the ascent to Todi, 
which was seen to lift its low-spired campanile into the 
air, commanding the whole country round. The ascent to 
the town from the bottom occupies more than an hour, 
owing to the windings of the road up the steep sides of the 
elevation upon which it stands. Circling the old town the 
first object that meets the eye is a singular church of 
clustered domes, the masterpiece of Bramante. Wearily 
we rode along the lengthy principal street of the town 
without being able to find the inn we sought, which, it 
seemed, had either changed its name or vanished altogether. 
At last, as no inquiries availed, we were on the point of 
seeking another, when H. and B. looking from a window 
called to us to dismount, as they had found what was said 
to be the best locanda of the town. And a cheery little 
place enough it was, with all the cleanliness and comfort 
that one ever expects to find in an Italian inn remote from 
the path of ordinary travellers. We were waited upon by 
two bright-eyed damsels with the sharpness and politeness 
which naturally belongs to the Italian character. Dinner 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



257 



over, one of them produced from her pocket a handful of 
cigars and offered me one, at the same time proceeding to 
light and smoke one herself. 

Todi was the ancient Roman Tuder. It is mentioned by 
Silius Italicus as being loftily situated, and famous for its 
temple of Mars.* It is also spoken of by Strabo and 
other classical writers. 

It is surmounted by an old castle and partly surrounded 
by mediaeval walls, with square towers at intervals. But 
more interesting than these are the extensive remains 
of some antique walls of Etruscan origin to be found 
in several parts of the town. These are composed of 
variously sized blocks of tufa laid together in unequal 
courses, without cement, offering a fine sample of the 
constructive workmanship of the earliest known inhabitants 
of Central Italy. There are also some very well preserved 
remains of the facade of a Roman temple, probably be 
longing to the time of the early empire. 

The modern town, or city, as it is still called,- contains 
between four and five thousand inhabitants. It consists 
of long straggling streets and a square, or piazza, with 
a town hall and cathedral of sturdy mediaeval archi- 
tecture. There are numberless picturesque nooks, lanes, 
and corners to be found within it, and sometimes in- 
dications of architectural taste and skill for which we 
may look in vain amongst modern workmanship. In 
common with other small Italian towns, there is a want 
of activity and energy within its precincts which is ab- 
solutely depressing. No shadow of ambition seems to 
disturb its quiet life. Remote from the great centres of 
business, day by day passes without bringing any change 
to the still monotony of existence within its walls — scarcely 
reached even by a rumour of the large movements and 
energetic actions which stir and animate the races of men 
beneath. 

It would be difficult to say in what manner the greater 
* Punic, iv. 222. 

S 



2 5 8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



portion of the inhabitants of this town are enabled to eke 
out a livelihood where there seems to be so little demand 
for labour, and, apparently, no commercial relationships 
beyond its limits. Yet here, from year to year, men and 
women live and die, some at a good old age, as appearances 
testify. Probably it maintains itself in a great measure on 
the produce of the surrounding country. Yet, in spite of 
its dullness and poverty, it is not without its pretensions to 
a certain form of social display. Every evening, in the fine 
weather, the principal inhabitants congregate on the terrace 





T-0DI. 



walks or promenade, laid out to command the whole 
river-valley, from which the sun is seen to set like a fire, 
and the last glow of the fading day to vanish beyond the 
summits of the deep brown mountains, interweaving the 
sky with aerial webs of softly blended colour, and drawing 
the curtain of rest over still hamlet and tranquil homestead 
nestling peacefully beneath. 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCO R A NO TO TOD I. 



259 



This spot was especially delightful to me at the evening 
hour during my stay there. It was the time of harvest ; 
the spirit of early summer lay upon the surrounding 
country, not yet parched with the burning suns of the later 
season. An extensive valley was displayed far beneath, 
bounded by lofty mountains spreading their sombre slopes 
beyond the river, varied by vast groves, patches of cul- 
tivated land, and barren surface, all taking those subtle and 
delicate tints which a southern climate alone can impart. 
From a chasm of the hills the river emerged, and after 
wandering hither and thither through the valley, vanished 
as suddenly in a rift at the other end of it. Then the 
weird and melancholy songs of the reapers were wafted 
upwards from near and far harvest-fields, rising and falling 
in the stillness with their strange wild cadences, floating 
from bank to bank and bluff to bluff like the tender wailings 
of some bereaved sylvan spirit, and ere their last echoes 
had died on the glimmering twilight — for they seemed to 
linger in the air as if loth to die — the strain was taken up 
at some remote corner of the valley miles away, and pro- 
longed again and again, throwing a vague spell over the 
scene, as the stars lit their silvery lamps one by one, and 
the bats and owls began to nicker through the closing 
shades of balm-breathing night. 

The mediaeval history of this town is of the usual tur- 
bulent character. A quaint incident is given by Graziani 
in his diary as having occurred here in the year one 
thousand three hundred and fourteen. " In the month of 
August," he says, " this year, the commune of Perugia 
made peace with the commune of Todi in this manner, 
that is, the syndic of .those within and the syndic of those 
without kissed each other on the mouth, which peace was 
made at the foot of the campanile of San Lorenzo with 
a certain compact which appears written in our council 
chamber. When peace was made all the Guelphs from 
without entered the city. The contract was made by Sir 
Filippo de Gilio of Porta Santa Susanna." It is a pity so 

s 2 



260 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



simple and satisfactory a mode of ending public difficulties 
has grown out of fashion in modern times. 

Campano in his life of Fortebraccio narrates a stirring 
episode in the history of the city, which I shall here 
transcribe for the graphic picture which it gives of mediaeval 
warfare and the military spirit of the time. It belongs 
to the year one thousand four hundred and fourteen. 

"Whilst they were making great preparations for war, 
Braccio, having paid his soldiers a year in advance, retired 
into the territory of Todi before the king [Ladislaus of 
Naples] should arrive, who, it was reported, was approach- 
ing with twenty thousand cavalry and eight thousand 
infantry with as great provisions for war to assault the 
pope's forces as had formerly served to defeat them in 
Tuscany. The people of Todi, who were on the side of 
the pope, although they felt themselves strong by nature of 
their position, yet being divided into parties and factions, 
placed the whole army of Braccio within the city, waiting 
the brunt of the king's coming, imagining (as, indeed, it 
happened) that he would use his utmost power to make 
himself master of the city, seeing that it stood between 
Rome and Perugia. The king, accordingly, on his arrival 
immediately surrounded the city to besiege it, with the 
intention of subjugating it by famine if he should not be 
able to take it by force. Braccio, although he might have 
been able from the advantage of his more elevated position 
to have attacked the enemy in the plain below, neverthe- 
less, on account of the small number of soldiers under his 
command, remained at first for some time within the walls. 
Afterwards issuing from the city almost every day he 
molested the enemy in such a manner that it did not appear 
so much that he was besieged as that he fought in open 
combat, the soldiers of Braccio being so emboldened by 
success as several times to have approached the pavilion of 
the king, so that the enemy were obliged to place sentinels 
close to the city, fortifying themselves with bastions. 
Trusting in their numbers, many overran the surrounding 



Chap. IX. 



FROM S CORA NO TO TOD I. 



261 



territory, burning the houses, others reduced to ruin the 
edifices in the vicinity of the city, others cut down the 
olives and vines, which being done under the eyes of the 
owners, each was compelled to be a witness of the injury 
he suffered. When the besieged thus saw their property 
destroyed on every hand, they were greatly moved thereat, 
and finally determined to submit themselves to the king, 
sending the heads of the city to capitulate and conclude 
peace ; the ambassadors earnestly demanding that Braccio 
might be permitted to leave the country voluntarily with 
all his army and to go whither he would. The king, 
although many would have persuaded him to the contrary, 
yet at the strong instance of the ambassadors, finally 
consented. Five hundred infantry were then sent into the 
city, and Braccio, having the opportunity to leave it, went 
with his army to Fratticiuola. No sooner, however, had he 
gone away than the soldiers placed by the king within the 
city gave themselves to unbridled robbery, and, under covei 
of the night, licentiously to sack the houses of . the poor 
citizens, commencing, as is customary with soldiers, forcibly 
to put everything to ruin. The inhabitants of Todi, soon 
repenting of the step which they had taken, once more 
gave themselves to the pope, and recalling Braccio to the 
defence of the city, threw down the royal standard, raised 
that of the Church, and were again besieged by Ladislaus. 
On the same day that this change was made in Todi 
certain companies sent by the king took several of Braccio's 
cavalry together with two hundred horses which had been 
put to pasture. The night following, Braccio commanded 
his soldiers that they should take arms, and issuing from 
the city at the first watch of the night, assaulted the camp 
of the king with such violence that, having thrown down 
their defences and cut the sentinels to pieces, they thence 
passed to the trenches of the enemy, who being awakened 
from sleep, whilst they were running to seize their arms, 
were bound and made prisoners. There were taken and 
led away to Todi four noble knights who had charge of 



262 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



the royal standards, as they were hurrying to the pavilion 
of the king. As soon as Braccio perceived that the enemy 
had had time to arm themselves and that they were coming 
out to fight, not wishing to be taken prisoner in the midst 
of a more powerful opponent, thought it prudent to sound a 
retreat. Amongst all the gallant deeds done in the war 
there were none more honourable than this. The king in 
person having followed them to the gates of the city, heard 
the voices of the standard-bearers calling for help ; but 
although he thought himself close upon them, they were 
dragged up the heights with such celerity that he suddenly 
found himself a long way from them. As soon as they were 
within the town the soldiers commenced in the dark to despoil 
them ; but when a light was brought and they saw the 
distinguished aspect of their prisoners they forbore. Their 
vests were richly embroidered, their spurs of gold, their 
corselets and helmets gilded all over ; neither were their 
horses less elaborately adorned : their trappings, bridles, 
and saddles being all furnished with gold. When they 
were brought before Braccio he entertained them with 
much kindness ; and early on the day following he sent 
them back to the king, although by the rules of war he 
might have made them pay for their liberation. There 
were taken seventy cavalry from the enem)- that night. It 
is said that the king after having asked the standard- 
bearers many particulars concerning Braccio, bestowed 
great praises on his humanity and high-mindedness, sending 
a trumpeter to thank him in his name. The next day in 
a slight skirmish a soldier of Braccio, much loved and 
esteemed by him, was taken prisoner. The king gave him 
a purple vest, and then set him at liberty, requesting him 
to tell Braccio, that he much desired to speak with him. 
Between the city and the king's camp beyond the confines 
and the trench were some strong beams well secured, where 
the soldiers of both sides frequently met in combat, these 
to force and those to defend the obstacle ; here the soldier 
addressing Braccio, told him what the king had said, at the 



Chap. IX. 



FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 



263 



same time pointing out the king, who was fighting beyond 
the barrier. ' Go to him/ replied Braccio, ' and tell him if 
he wishes to see me I am here.' . The king, however, at the 
instant approaching the barrier, Braccio immediately raised 
his helmet, and with uncovered head, throwing down his 
sword, dismounted his horse, and resting upon one knee 
did him reverence as is customary before royalty, upon 
which both retired to a long parley — the soldiers on both 
sides continuing to fio;ht with only the line of defence and 
the trench between them. The king offered Braccio three 
hundred thousand ducats, if he would combine with him, 
together with the command of all his army, and a city in 
gift, whichever he might choose in his kingdom, except 
Naples, adding that nothing should be denied to him if he 
would only join him : promising all this on his faith and 
royal crown. Braccio, after thanking the king for his 
graciousness in granting him an interview, who was but a 
private person and of no distinction, told him that he had 
always studied to maintain his faith pure and entire towards 
those whom he served, and that as he was now fighting for 
the pope, he should remain faithful to him, although it 
might cost him his life, and that he should not abandon 
him either for money, love, fear, or any manner of danger, 
because he held nothing in the world so valuable as fidelity ; 
but that if he could in any particular interest have served 
his highness he would willingly have done so, if it were not 
prejudicial to the dignity of the pope ; adding, that if he 
had been in the service of the king at that time as he was 
in that of the pope, he would have served him with the 
same faithfulness. Upon these words the king offered him 
many compliments, and having commended his principles 
departed ; the skirmishing being reneAved with much greater 
vehemence than before : each party exciting the soldiers to 
a greater ardour. But with all he could do the king was 
never able to pass the line of defence which was continually 
surrounded by the people of Todi, who with their arrows 
kept their enemies at a distance. After having thus con- 



26 4 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 



sumed twenty-five days in the siege, the king decamped ; 
and shortly afterwards, making peace with the Florentines 
and taking and imprisoning Paolo Orsini, returned first to 
Rome and then to his kingdom, where he died." 

The length of the Tiber from Todi to Perugia, a distance 
of about twenty-seven miles, offers as few points of 
interest and as little variety of scenery as are to be found 
in anv similar length of its whole course. .. As the hi^h 
road follows the river quite closely almost the whole of the 
distance we took the diligence of the country at an early 
hour of the morning to accomplish this portion of our 
journey. Everything wore a beautiful pastoral aspect. 
The river here wanders through a vast undulating plain of 
the most fertile territory, richly cultivated, covered with 
orchards, vineyards, and pleasant pastures. As we passed 
along the road, the horses lazily jingling their bells, Ave saw 
the swineherd tending his charge beneath the trees, here 
and there a flock of sheep grazing or perhaps a few cows 
watched by a boy or a girl with her white linen head-dress 
shining in the sun. Now and then a white house was seen 
on the upland, or perhaps a little village lifting its tall 
campanile from some more elevated height. The sides of 
the river bristled with lank poplars, vast groves of which 
stretch up the spreading slopes for miles. Grey willows 
fringed the shores, whilst the stream — a narrowing streak 
of azure on white beds of pebbles, sand, or baked mud — 
ran into cool vistas of refreshing shade, from time to time 
fed with little trickling rills. Hot as it was the drive was 
cheerful and pleasant. The driver, near whom I sat, enter- 
tained me almost the whole of the way with his views on 
the regeneration of Italy. Amongst other things he in- 
formed me that there was a popular superstition that if the 
pope should survive his twenty-fifth anniversary his dele- 
gated power would revert to St. Peter himself and be no 
longer availing in the hands of the pontiff. " Do you also 
believe it ?" I asked. " No," he replied, " I am not speaking 
of myself, but of the lower classes of uneducated people." 



Chap. IX. 



FROM S CORA NO TO TOD I. 



265 



Presently he told me that an excellent dinner had been 
ordered some days before to be ready at Diruta for the 
gentlemen inside upon the arrival of the diligence, and as 
there would probably be enough for all, he would ask them 
to let us join them. Accordingly, on our arrival at a little 
road-side inn near that town, we were regaled on an 
abundance of maccaroni, together with boiled, fried and 
roasted, with some very excellent wine ; not unwelcome 
additions to the pleasure of a day's travelling, seasoned, as 
it was, with the friendly and well-bred courtesy of our 
travelling companions. 

Diruta was a town of some mediaeval, importance, being 
not infrequently concerned in the wars of Perugia, and Todi. 
It is in a good commanding position. From this place a 
hot length of dusty road led us by many a pretty white 
villa up to Perugia. 




ORVIETO. 



( 266 ) 



Chap. X. 



CHAPTER X. 

PERUGIA, ASS IS I, AND THE RIVER CLITUMNUS. 
PHERE is no more agreeable town in Central Italy for 



-1 a summer residence than Perugia. On a spur of the 
Apennines commanding the prospect of the greater part 
of the valley of Foligno, which extends to a distance of 
thirty or forty miles from its foot, it enjoys a salubrious 
atmosphere, with a cheerful and beautiful position.* It is 
quiet, intensely quiet to an Anglo-Saxon fresh from the 
cities of England or America ; but to the lover of nature 
and the artist there is abundant material for the eye and 
the mind, whilst the student of mediaeval life may feast 
himself in the dusty records of bygone centuries written 
on almost every house-front and every public building. 
We were happy on our arrival to find ourselves in the midst 
of a little colony of English and American friends from 
Rome, who had come here to spend the summer. I do 
not know of any place where the friendly and social re- 
lationships are so satisfactory as in Italy. Sojourners being 
led thither for the most part by a community of pursuit, 
the free-and-easy, half bohemian artist life allows of per- 
fectly unconstrained intercourse. Everyone w r ho goes to 
make a visit to Italy beyond the run of the mere tourist, is 
in a manner compelled to adopt some speciality, if he have 
not one already, either in art or antiquity ; so that each 




* Perugia 

Che com' e in monte ha il sito allegro e bello. 

Fazio degli Uberti. 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASS IS I. ETC. 



267 



is more or less interested in the pursuit of the other, and 
meetings are almost always welcome and agreeable. Ours 
were no exception to this rule. Genial days and evenings 
greeted us. In fact, every day was a holiday from which 
a few. hours were borrowed to forward a picture or to 
acquire material for a new one, or to work out a sketch to 
suggest the winter work of the sculptor. For myself the 
mornings of each day were almost always spent in the 
retirement - of the town library, disinterring many a dusty 
tome, ancient chronicle, or local history, in order to obtain 
glimpses of mediaeval life and manners in the city ; some 
extracts from which I purpose presently to lay before the 
reader. 

Perugia is perhaps one of the oldest of Italian cities as it 
was once one of the most powerful of Etruria. In the fourth 
century before Christ it was able to withstand the Romans 
for a long time, though ultimately compelled to succumb 
to Fabius. It would not appear, however, that it was 
finally reduced until forty years before the Christian era, 
under the emperor Augustus, when it suffered the horrors 
of siege and famine, the city being afterwards sacked, three 
hundred of its chief citizens being condemned to decapita- 
tion. On this occasion a certain Caius Cestius Macedonius, 
preferring that his house should be burnt rather than 
delivered to the pillage of the enemy, set fire to it, where- 
upon the flames spread throughout the whole city, which 
was thus burnt to the ground. It was afterwards rebuilt 
by Augustus and colonized by the Romans. In the sixth 
century it fell into the hands of Totilus, king of the Goths, 
after a seven years' obstinate resistance, who devastated it 
with fire and sword, beheading its bishop. Its mediaeval 
history was a very troubled one, and as it includes some 
of the most stirring events and characteristic scenes of that 
hostile period it may be interesting to dwell on it a little 
more at length. But instead of giving a continuous his- 
torical account of the city, I shall present a few pictures 
of its state and condition in the Middle Ages. 



26S 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



Almost every town in Italy, little or great, has at some 
time or other had its local chronicler, who has written a 
diary or history, in a more or less fragmentary form, of the 
chief political and social events occurring during his life- 
time. The manner in which these are given is. often 
infinitely racy and amusing. Many of them were subse- 
quently printed, some have found later editors, whilst 
doubtless many still remain in the dust of centuries, await- 
ing the discoverer to bring them to the light. 

Campano, the biographer of Fortebraccio, says that the 
Perugians were the most bellicose of all nations, and that 
even in the same house party spirit ran so high that sons 
were frequently opposed to their fathers, so that neither 
dared trust his life into the hands of the other. Treachery 
and suspicion prevailed ; the domestic relationships even 
losing faith and confidence. This state of things is con- 
firmed by the historians, although, indeed, they do not 
forget to tell us that there were exceptions to the rule — quiet, 
peaceable citizens who regarded every movement of the 
military spirit within the city or out of it as the worst of 
misfortunes, and who would willingly have pursued their way 
in tranquillity if they had been permitted to do so. 

To furnish an idea of the state of feeling in the city, and 
the circumstances under which it was maintained, I shall 
here give a picture of its condition in the year one thousand 
four hundred and eighty-eight from the history of Pellini. 

At that time Perugia was divided into factions by two 
powerful and wealthy families, the Baglioni and the Oddi, 
the growing jealousy between whom was fostered and finally 
brought to issue by the former having some offices and 
emoluments withdrawn from them by the pope, as was 
supposed, at the instigation and by the influence of the 
other. This was quite enough to arouse the smouldering 
fires of rivalry that lay between them. Immediately the 
whole city and territory were disorganised. But we will 
leave the historian to narrate the episode in his own 
manner. 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASS IS I, ETC. 



269 



" In those days," he says, " Guido Baglioni returned from 
Spello, and seeing the differences which had arisen and the 
danger of a catastrophe, reports of which were noised about 
the city, summoned a good number of soldiers into Perugia 
from his territories, strengthening himself with his adherents, 
all the country being in arms, and the gentlemen's houses 
full of friends and armed followers, and the Oddi in great 
suspicion, because it was already reported that the Baglioni 
wished to kill the sons of Leone degli Oddi. It happened 
on the twenty-fifth of October, Giulio Cesare degli StafTa 
being the head of the Signori, at one hour of the night, 
whilst the minds of every one were in suspense, a little 
disturbance took place in the piazza, and cries were raised 
of Oddi, Oddi ! and Baglioni, Baglioni ! yet, although much 
people ran thither, there was nothing more done that 
evening ; but they stood in arms all night, each attentive 
to his own safety. The following day, which was Sunday, 
the Marchese del Monte, who had married the daughter 
of Simone degli Oddi, went thither ; and with him went 
Pompeo di Leone, Nicolo di Sforza and Mariotto, with 
many other friends in company, although the whole country 
was in an uproar, each party seeking to bring his friends 
from without for the sake of its own security. On the 
Monday they remained in arms in the same manner, the 
shops not being opened, each guarding himself with vigi- 
lance as knowing that the danger was great. The Baglioni, 
for their better security, put a good number of the soldiers 
from Spello in the cathedral, where they fortified themselves 
by barricading the doors, only leaving aperture sufficient 
for the discharge of the artillery they had placed therein, 
which, although not numerous nor of great size, was by 
no means inefficacious, since they were able to command 
the house of the StafTa from one door and from another 
towards the Via Nuova, to bear upon the Armanni, the 
Ranieri, the Arcipreti and the Sperelli ; and, in order that 
no one might come into the piazza without opposition, they 
had placed some at the principal entrance towards the 



270 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



piazza, and on the roof of the church, opposite the tower 
of the Armanni, which was also provisioned and well fur- 
nished with arms and all necessaries ; these also com- 
manded the piazza and the palace of the podesta. The 
Corgneschi, on their part, placed many pieces of artillery 
and cross-bows (bales tre) which commanded the road that 
leads to Sansanne ; so that it was impossible for any one 
to enter the piazza that way without danger ; and in order 
that the Oddi might be altogether debarred from entering 
the piazza, the Baglioni also had barricaded the way and 
guarded it with soldiers in the neighbourhood of the Cupa 
under the houses of the Crispolti, and in other places. They 
had also taken the seat of the notaries into the piazza and 
placed weapons and soldiers there. The Oddi, on the 
other side, seeing themselves almost besieged and unable 
to go to the piazza without great danger, set themselves 
to strengthen their position, with the determination to 
provoke the Baglioni to the contest, or, if any farther 
tumult should arise, to defend themselves ; they also being 
supported by many friends and adherents ; amongst others 
by the Count Giacomo, son of Count Guido of Sterpeto, 
with two hundred infantry, who had fought much and was 
much praised for his daring. They had closed the road 
to the Verzaro in various places, at the Ceppo della Catena 
and in other places ; so that all that day and the next, -they 
did nothing else but prepare for their defence, although 
many neutral gentlemen and the magistrates did every- 
thing they could to make peace ; to whom the Oddi made 
it appear that they did not know of what the Baglioni 
complained, nor what they would have ; and as to the 
difference between them and the Corgneschi in the affair 
of Passignano, they professed that it might be easily accom- 
modated. The intention of the Ranieri and Agamemnone 
della Penna to assist the Oddi being discovered, they also 
provided themselves with many men, and set pieces of 
artillery in the house of Master Filippo Capra on the hill 
of Porta Sole, in order to be higher than the others, so that 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



271 



they could shoot right into the door of the cathedral which 
faces the Via Nuova. They then fortified themselves in 
the houses, particularly Agamemnone, who strengthened 
his position with beams and whatever else came to hand 
for the safety of himself and what belonged to him, pro- 
viding all that was judged useful or necessary for the 
occasion. On Tuesday, which was the day of St. Simon 
and St. Jude, the twenty-eighth of October, things remaining 
in this state of suspicion and fear, it happened that two 
young men after dining, having come to an encounter at 
the foot of the piazza on account of some personal quarrel, 
attacking each other with their swords, all the people in 
the piazza ran thither. It was natural that the Baglioni, 
being the nearest to the disturbance, should arrive there 
the first, ready to seize the occasion. As soon as their 
adherents had arrived in the piazza they began to shout 
the name of their party and to enter into contest with 
some followers of the Oddi. The Corgneschi also, hearing 
the tumult, rushed incontinently out of the house of Master 
Pietro Filippo, and without going further, placed them- 
selves at the head of the street which goes to the Porta 
Sansanne, as well because the Oddi, who were already on 
their way to the skirmish, should not enter the piazza, as 
because those of their friends who were there should not 
be able to rejoin the others. A sharp and perilous en- 
counter took place between the Oddi and Corgneschi under 
the palace of the Signori ; but more by wounding each 
other from a distance with* bolts and pikes and with small 
pieces of artillery which they had fixed in secure places, 
than with the sword and other short arms hand to hand. 
The Oddi, who were in much greater numbers, would have 
easily taken the piazza if the Baglioni had not been prompt 
\n their help to the Corgneschi, who thus reinforced prevented 
the Oddi from entering it. The fight lasted several hours 
in the narrow streets ; but when the Oddi attempted to pass 
by these ways — as the Baglioni attempted to do by others 
— to the great disadvantage of the enemies at Porta San- 



2J2 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



sanne, and thus to enter the piazza in other directions, 
there were engagements in various parts. There was 
fighting at the same time beneath the palace of the Signori 
in the principal piazza, "in the piazza of the Aratri, under 
the bridge that goes to the Via Vecchia and the Conca, where 
the family of the Petrini had their houses (some of which 
are still there) at the Ceppo della Catena, and not far from 
thence, at the house of the Corgneschi at San Gregorio, 
where barricades had been raised and strong defences 
made ; and in all places they continued fighting valiantly 
until the evening with much damage of wounds and death 
on both sides. But besides attacking and using every effort 
to occupy and defend the barriers, the Baglioni, who had 
the advantage of the assistance of the people from without, 
who had been able to damage the enemy by taking them 
with all ardour, began to assault many houses wherein 
they saw the retainers and defenders of the Oddi. To 
some they set fire, so that presently they saw all that were 
within them together with the furniture burn and consume 
away. On that day, however, the house of the heirs of 
Paolo di Tancio, not far from the church of Maesta della 
Volta, was the only one entirely burnt down. It had 
been desired before the fighting commenced that in order 
to prevent strife or subdue it, that Guido, as the oldest and 
of the most authority in that family, should stand continu- 
ously with a stick in his hand and unarmed at the top of 
the street of the Porta Susanne, which he accordingly did, 
calling to his own people that tftey should withdraw them- 
selves from the combat ; for which reason there was much 
less harm done that day than there might have been. For 
this end also there ran thither Leandra, the wife of Sforza 
degli Oddi and the daughter of Braccio Baglione, and 
Isabetta, daughter of Guido Baglione, who with all their 
authority and entreaties, united with the intercessions of 
many reverend fathers of the Observance of St. Francis, 
who went in procession bearing the crucifix before them, 
crying ' Peace, peace ! ' interposing themselves with great 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



273 



humility, were not able to effect so much as that the fight 
in all the above-mentioned places should not last until the 
evening." 

It is easy to imagine all this ; the eager and passionate 
countenances of the belligerents ; the women with dis- 
hevelled hair and frightened faces anxious to save husband, 
father, or brother ; the monks and priests rushing hither and 
thither with gesticulations and entreaties — all are placed 
graphically before us. Finally the differences became 
adjusted for the time being : but fresh disturbances after- 
wards broke out ; houses were burnt and sacked ; the Oddi 
being obliged to flee the city. They established themselves 
at Castiglione on Lake Thrasimene ; but were thence dis- 
lodged and scattered throughout various parts of Italy. 

To these factions and disturbances there was no end. 
Continually adventurous persons of arms, grown into power 
by whatever means, struggled with each other for rule ; 
everywhere the people suffered, and in endeavouring to free 
themselves from one yoke found themselves subjugated by 
another. Rival families sought for rule and dominion for 
the mere purpose of selfish aggrandisement and personal 
advantage. One of the most prominent of these personages 
was Biordo Michelotti. Nurtured amidst feudal ambitions, 
he early took up arms as a profession. After making him- 
self master of Orvieto, towards the end of the fourteenth 
century he established himself at Diruta, and then began a 
warfare against Perugia ; so that more to get rid of a power- 
ful enemy than for any friendliness the Perugians bore to 
him, he was finally admitted to the mastership of their city. 
It will be enough here to furnish two episodes from their 
local history at this time. One of his marriage and the 
other of his death, the former told by an old chronicler, as 
follows : — 

" In the month of November, of the year one thousand 
three hundred and ninety-seven, Biordo ordered a great 
festival and triumph to be prepared in secret ; though he 
did not let the purpose of it be known. First of all it was 

T 



274 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



arranged that every family of the country and then every 
community, village and stronghold should bring a present- 
These presents were of straw, corn, wood, grain, wine, fowls, 
calves, sheep, eggs, and cheese ; being made spontaneously, 
and not by command, from the wish which the people had 
to show their attachment to Biordo. Biordo afterwards had 
it published throughout the country, that every person who 
was not a rebel or had not been condemned by the commune 
of Perugia might come with safety to the said feast. He 
also invited all the gentry of the neighbourhood, ordering a 
high festival of eight days to be proclaimed. There were 
invited Master Chiavello da Fabriano, together with his 
wife and all his family, the son of the Count Antonio da 
Urbino, and many other gentlemen. Moreover, he sum- 
moned a great number of the people of his territory for a 
body guard. The abbot of Santa Maria di Val di Ponte 
made him a magnificent present, so did the abbot of San 
Pietro and the son of Simon Guidalotti. Besides, all the 
districts around sent him ambassadors with very noble 
presents. Finally, Venice and Florence sent twelve men at 
arms for the tournament. . . . 

" Madonna the Countess, daughter of Count Bertoldo of 
the house of Ursina was taken by Biordo to San Giovanni 
the day before. Sir Filippo di Matteuccio went for her and 
conducted her to Castel della Pieve, and on the thirteenth, 
came to Perugia. She entered by the Due Porte wearing a 
vestment of gold drawn over her head with many jewels ; 
before her were carried three pairs of coffers ; she was also 
preceded by six damsels in cloth vestments, for her service. 
She wore a wreath of asparagus round her head. She was 
accompanied by Master Chiavello, governor of Fabriano, and 
the ambassadors of Venice and Florence on horseback ; all the 
honourable gentlewomen going before, dancing, clothed each 
according to the quarter of the town to which she belonged, 
those who did not dance walking behind. The commune 
of Perugia, in order to enhance the importance of the festival 
gave ten florins of gold to each company. In front there 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



?75 



were a great number of trumpeters who sounded in the 
manner of an invitation to come to the festival, during which 
no one was allowed to open his shop for the space of eight 
days. The banquet was laid for the Signori of San Lorenzo 
in the papal saloon, around which were placed a great many 
tables, supports being made for the torches. The table of 
Biordo was at the head of the saloon, raised above all the 
others, The masters of the feast were Baldo della Nina, 
Spaccalfico and Massietto Cambiatore, at whose table there 
were placed three hundred trenchers for each course. So 
that it was said in Tuscany that there was never seen before 
so fine a festival. The ladies were entertained altogether at 
the house of Biordo, which was on the hill of Porta Sole, 
and were a very royal company. 

" The day following all the above mentioned cities, 
territories and other places brought presents and unique 
gifts ; first the ambassador of Venice, presenting one which 
was worth two hundred florins of gold, that of Florence 
being a robe of scarlet and a horse in trappings, that of 
Citta di Castello being another robe and a horse. Orvieto 
presented an entire table-service all of silver ; Todi the 
same with two pieces of velvet. Other ambassadors did the 
like. Besides these there were a great number of ladies, 
habited with the device borne by the quarter in which Biordo 
dwelt, who had almost all made three vests to each person 
who went dancing about the piazza. On Wednesday a 
helmed man jousted, bearing the arms of the commune be- 
hind, that fs the griffin, one of the household of Chiavello 
and others contending ; the joust lasting until night, when 
the torches had to be lighted. The prize was given to him 
of Chiavello's household. It was a very high festival. "* 

The account of Biordo's death is given by Graziani, one of 
the local historians above spoken of, in a very circumstantial 
way. It is as follows : — 

" On the tenth of March Biordo de li Michelotti was made 

* Memorie di Perugia dal 1308 al 1398. Quoted by Fabretti in his 
" Capitani d' Umbria." Note e documenti. 



276 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



Count of Val di Chiana. On the same day, that is the 
tenth of March, on Sunday morning, the said Michelotti was 
killed by the abbot of Francesco, son of Simone di Cecolo 
dei Guidalotti, he was abbot of San Pietro : a man full of 
malice and deceit as appears by this homicide and the manner 
in which it occurred, as we shall proceed to narrate below. 

" To recount in full all the particulars of the death of 
the said Biordo, it may be stated that Biordo trusted in 
Simone di Cecolo more than in any other man in the world, 
and more than if he had been a relative ; conferring with 
him on his most secret affairs. One day he confided to him 
a plan which he had formed to raise himself very much by 
means of certain clever accomplices ; for he was very much 
beloved of them and every other person, both rich and poor, 
— more than any who before had held Perugia, and this was 
for the great benignity, suavity, and affection, which distin- 
guished him. After having told Simone everything, as has 
been said, Simone revealed it all to the other Guidalotti, who, 
moved with envy, at once sought to procure his death in 
some manner, and then to give the city into the hands 
of the pope ; this treachery being devised by the abbot 
Francesco dei Guidalotti, who did all he could to forward 
the design thinking thus to rise to the dignity of cardinal. 
And, so, as fortune would have it, on the tenth of March on 
Sunday morning, the above-named abbot Francesco left 
San Pietro and came on horseback to the end of the hill of 
Landone, his house being there ; he and some of his com- 
pany leaving their horses there. Then the abbot, with two 
of his brothers, Giovanni and Anibaldo, sons of Simone di 
Cecolo, went towards the house of Biordo on the hill of the 
Porta Sole, Armanno di Ugolino going with them, together 
with many other friends ; in all about twenty, all of whom had 
sworn an oath to the same effect. 

" When they had arrived, they gave Biordo to understand 
that the abbot Francesco wanted to speak to him on 
a matter of great importance ; whereupon he quickly 
rose from his bed and went to the cloister, without 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



277 



having any arms upon him whatever. When the abbot 
entered Biordo went towards him, saying, 1 1 rejoice to 
see you. I did not wish to trouble you to come to me, 
so I have come to you.' The abbot bowed and saluted 
him, and taking him by the hand presently embraced him. 
Then Giovanni, Anibaldc, and the other accomplices attack- 
ing Biordo from behind, struck him in the throat with 
poisoned knives, until they had killed him. Gaidone was 
with Biordo, who, it is said, was also in the conspiracy ; 
there were also two servants with him, but they did not 
help him, as was supposed, through fear. As soon as the 
abbot and the company saw that Biordo was quite dead 
they immediately went for their horses to their house on 
the hill of Landone, and mounting them, went down to San 
Pietro, staying there and sending for all their friends ; but 
Armanno when he was mounted did not go with the abbot, 
but took the way towards the piazza, and went about the 
piazza crying, * We have killed the tyrant,' thinking by 
that to lead the people with him ; but not a single person 
followed. By this time it had got abroad in Perugia that 
Biordo was dead, although there were not twenty persons 
in the piazza ; almost every one being in the church at the 
sermon. As soon as those who were listening to the sermon 
heard of the death of Biordo, they went out and immediately 
armed themselves, and then came into the piazza crying, 
' Death to the traitors !' so all the people followed them 
crying, ' Death to the traitors !' Andrea di Madonna Fiore 
with certain companions, was amongst the first to arrive in 
the piazza, who, when he saw Armanno, went towards him 
crying, ' Kill, kill the traitors.' Upon which Armanno 
turned his horse and galloped to San Pietro, whither the 
abbot had gone with the rest of his companions. As soon 
as he reached them the abbot and the others went imme- 
diately to Casalina, taking as many friends with them as 
they could find. On the other side the people, being all 
armed, did nothing but cry, ' Death to the traitors !' search- 
ing for the abbot and the other Guidalotti with the inten- 



278 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X 



tion of killing them, all running to their houses and the 
houses of their followers, from which they took all the 
things, and then set fire to them : that is, first to the houses 
of Simone di Cecolo and Francesco di Nino and then to the 
houses of the partisans of the said Guidalotti which were all 
sacked and burned. At noon Francesco di Nino, uncle to the 
before-mentioned abbot, was found in the piazza at the shop 
of Leonardo, and immediately killed by one Agobio, fellow- 
cousin of Biordo. Shortly afterwards Sigisnolfo, going 
through the town on horseback seeking for the Guidalotti 
and their followers to kill them, was informed that Simone 
di Cecolo, father of the abbot, was hid in the district of 
Sansanne in the house of Antonio de la Mona, apothecary ; 
so they went thither and killed him, afterwards throwing him 
out of the window. After vespers Giacopo di Bartolommeo 
and another were found near the fountain of Buzago, going to 
rejoin the abbot at Casalina, who were both slain. On the 
same day Gaidone was hanged near Capo Cavallo : he had 
fled ; and as it was believed that he belonged to the band of 
traitors they hanged him. It is said that the conspiracy 
was arranged at San Pietro, where the abbot had intended 
to give a feast to which Biordo was to have been asked with 
many other citizens, and there they were all to have been 
killed ; thus it was arranged, all of which was revealed by 
Luca Torsciano, whose head was cut off, because he belonged 
to the faction, The same day the news was sent to Madonna 
Baldina, the mother of Biordo, and to Madonna the Countess, 
his wife, and to Cecolino : the commune sending them 
word to Todi, where they were staying. Cecolino was 
recommended to remain in Todi until they sent for him ; 
and this the commune did, because Cecolino was a man 
very hasty and terrible, and they feared he might do some 
great mischief : so that Cecolino after having accompanied 
the ladies as far as the confines of Perugia returned to Todi. 
In the meanwhile the blood of Biordo was gathered up and 
put into a basin, and was buried the following night in the 
church of San Francesco together with the body in a coffin. 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



279 



When the before-mentioned women arrived, there was a 
great weeping - and an honourable funeral was ordained, the 
commune of Perugia causing a helmet of silver to be made 
for his tomb and a standard with the device of a white 
griffin upon it. Afterwards there were made many banners 
with his arms upon them. On the Sunday and Monday 
the people were occupied continually in carrying away grain, 
wine and corn from the abbey of San Pietro, and on Tuesday 
it was set on fire, in order that there might be an abbey no 
longer, since it was said that it had been found on record, 
that many times treachery against the state of Perugia had 
been plotted within its walls ; and therefore all was burnt 
save the church. On the Tuesday, that was the- twelfth of 
March, it was determined to raze the fortress of Sant 
Apollinare, which belonged to the abbey. On the ninth 
day after the death of Biordo, that was the eighteenth of 
the month, there was published a proclamation throughout 
the city, that the shops should not be opened. The cere- 
monial of the funeral was prepared in the palace of the 
captains, in which there was raised an elevated platform, 
upon which was placed the coffin covered with black, so that 
every one might see it ; and about it was erected a square 
frame-work upon which were placed burning torches, many 
mourning men and women standing around, and many re- 
tainers on horseback covered with black even to the ground, 
with banners in their hands ; and they went through all the 
city crying aloud and making great lamentation and weep- 
ing, saying, ' Our lord and master !' And almost all the 
people wept and said that the father of the people was 
dead ; and much people remained in the, piazza covered 
with black cloaks ; although every one was armed, for fear 
lest some disturbance should arise. And so the coffin was 
borne about the piazza amidst such grievous mourning as 
would have made a heart of stone weep. Then it was carried 
back to the palace, Biordo's mother tearing her hair with so 
great violence as to leave none on her head. This was in the 
pergola of the palace in which the mother and wife of Biordo 



28o 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



stood dressed in mourning ; and then the widow had all her 
hair cut off, upon which the lamentations were once more 
renewed in such a manner that it may not be told or re- 
counted. Around the coffin a great number of torches were 
placed and all the priests and friars, as many as could be 
found, and much people, both men and women, went as far 
as the palace of the Signori accompanying the coffin ; many 
persons remaining in the piazza out of suspicion. Also the 
country persons made great lamentation ; for to them Biordo 
had been very favourable and a great benefactor." 

But by far the most illustrious and distinguished of these 
local captains or governors, who were little kings in their 
territories, was Braccio da Montone surnamed Fortebraccio. 
He was born in Perugia in one thousand three hundred and 
sixty eight ; his family at that time owning the feudal 
territory of Montone, a fortress lying some distance to the 
north of Perugia towards Citta di Castello. He distin- 
guished himself in arms when still a youth by repressing a 
plot against his brothers at that place, and reinstating them 
in their possession. He began life as a military adventurer, 
but all his ambition was finally concentrated in the desire to 
possess himself of the rulership of his native town. More 
than once he had attempted to seize it by force of arms, but 
in vain ; every hand was raised against him. Even the 
women, once when he had won his way into the city, inciting 
their sons and husbands to resistance, poured on the devoted 
foe boiling water and live ashes, hurling upon them all the 
missiles within their reach. As to the men, the historian says, 
they fought not as army against army, but as man against 
man ; as if their enmity were not a matter of public difference, 
but one of private hatred and personal vengeance, crying for 
the blood of each individual opponent. Against such ob- 
stinate bravery, Braccio could do nothing. He rallied his 
troops in vain. At last he was driven out of the city, to the 
great joy of the Perugians, and their sorrow also, for he left 
them the sore task of opening and filling many new graves. 

It was only after the assassination of Biordo Michelotti 



C HAP. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



281 



that a better opportunity favoured him with success. Whilst 
various powers were contending for their rights over Perugia 
Braccio mustered all the forces that he could, meeting the 
Perugians and their allies under Malatesta di Rimini, 
near San Giovanni on the banks of the Tiber below the 
city. It was on this occasion that Braccio introduced a 
new method of fighting which Campano says was always 
afterwards adopted. Instead of marshalling all his army 
together, he divided it into squadrons, appointing a re- 
liable commander over each. The two armies met on a 
plain near the bridge between the hills and the river. Be- 
fore the battle commenced Braccio took care to provide 
ample means of refreshment for his soldiers, - organizing 
attendants to carry through his army supplies of water to 
reinvigorate the men under the heat of a midsummer sun : 
the battle being fought upon a dry and arid plain thickly 
covered with dust. This arrangement probably decided 
the fortunes of the day, for whilst the soldiers of Braccio 
were thus able to refresh themselves from time to time, the 
opposing troops under Malatesta, overcome with the blaze 
of a July sun, their eyes and mouths filled with hot dust, 
bathed in perspiration, and having no opportunity of re- 
moving their helmets for a moment, were at last so borne 
down by the continued strokes of the enemy as to be 
unable to use their swords; and after considerable slaughter 
were finally led away unresisting prisoners. When the 
Perugians within the city heard of their sad defeat at the 
hand of the foe whom they had formerly so successfully 
resisted, they were filled with consternation. A profound 
silence reigned throughout the town, more terrible, as the 
historian says, than any spoken complaints could be. No one 
dared to look another in the face in the heaviness of his 
own grief : whilst the women shut themselves up in their 
houses mourning both their living and their dead. 

In the meantime the Council of Ten deliberated as to what 
was the best thing to do. There could be only one conclu- 
sion. If the city must be saved from outrage, fire and 



282 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



slaughter, it must be given up to Braccio. It was a bitter 
decision, but it was done. 

No sooner was this conclusion arrived at than the whole 
city began to prepare for the entrance of their conqueror as 
for a public festival. The streets along which he and his 
army would be supposed to pass were lined with carpets 
and tapestries covering the walls of the houses, the ground 
being strewn with flowers. Not only were valuable stuns 
hung from the windows, but also gold chains and costly 
jewellery — even to the ornaments worn by the women — 
suspended in wreaths reaching almost to the ground, dazzled 
the eyes with their splendour on every side. The whole 
piazza was covered with an awning to ward off the rays of 
the sun. Every one opened his treasures, whether for 
private use or for commerce, to the public gaze. The 
Palazzo Publico, or Town Hall, surpassed all the rest. Carpets 
from French looms, of exquisite workmanship decorated the 
windows ; vases of silver and gold were ranged in its front, 
exposed to the eyes of all. All this was done to let the 
conqueror know they trusted him with everything. Braccio 
however did not make his triumphal entry in the manner 
that was expected. He crept in suspiciously through 
another gate where no sort of preparation had been made 
for him, and only on arriving at the piazza amidst the fes- 
tive sounds of trumpet and pipe was he assured that no 
treachery lay behind all this display. Here the magistrates, 
nobles, and chief citizens were called upon to swear alle- 
giance to his jurisdiction ; and the oath was taken, bitterly 
enough, doubtless, by many who put on a cordial front and 
a smiling face, to force a seeming welcome. 

The Perugians, however, had, after all, perhaps little 
reason to regret the necessity that thrust the adventurous 
man-at-arms upon them, since he did everything to make 
his rule a light and equitable one, and, perhaps, kept out 
the dominion of more lawless and ruthless despots. 

It is hard now to recall the fierce vindictive spirit of these 
troubled times. How bitter was the cherished hatred for a 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, AS SIS I, ETC. 



283 



wrong, real or imaginary ; how relentless the revenge that 
followed it. A single event extracted from the diary of 
Graziani will illustrate this better than a volume written 
upon it. 

" On the tenth of February," he says, " one thousand four 
hundred and thirty-seven, in the country of Acquapendente 
there were three shepherd boys taking care of their charge, 
and chatting together, when one said to another, ' Let us see 
what it is to hang a man.' So being agreed, one attached a 
rope to one of the others, the third raising him from the 
ground by the neck ; then he who had placed the rope 
about his neck tied the other end of it to the branch of an 
oak. At this instant a wolf was seen to approach them, 
upon which the two fled, leaving the other hanging. When 
the wolf went away the two returned, finding their com- 
panion dead. So they took him down and buried him. 
On the Sunday the father of him who was dead, went, as 
was the custom, to pay his son a visit, and to take him 
bread. Not finding him in the pasture, he asked his com- 
panions about him, and so, by much questioning, one of 
them told him what had occurred. Then the father, as 
soon as he understood that his son was dead, seized the 
shepherd who had told him, and finding where they had 
buried him, took out a knife, and killed him on the spot ; 
and then, cutting him open, drew forth his liver and took it 
home, and invited the father of him whom he had slain to 
come and eat with him. When he came, he gave him the 
liver of his son, telling him after he had eaten, that it was a 
part of his son. Then the father of the one who was hanged 
took the slayer of his son and killed him. .Then the mother 
went shrieking to the mother of him who was hanged, and 
killed her likewise. And so from one to another, and from 
another to somebody else, it was said that by the end of 
February, that is in less than a month, for this cause, 
between men women and heirs, about thirty-six persons 
had been slain." 

If the people were impulsive in their revenge, they were 



284 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



scarcely less so in their religion. The same historian has 
left us a very characteristic picture in the following account 
of the preaching of a friar in Perugia. 

" On the nineteenth of September (one thousand four 
hundred and ninety-two), on Wednesday, Berardino di Ouillo 
of Siena, a friar of the Order of the Observance of St. Francis, 
from Assisi, commenced to say mass, and to preach at the 
top of the piazza at Perugia. It was said that in Assisi 
he had accomplished a great work, more especially in 
making the peace between those who had been long ene- 
mies, one for the death of a father, another for that of his 
brothers, another of his sons. On the first day no shop was 
opened until the sermon was over ; and there was much 
people. On the Thursday there was a proclamation that 
no person should open his shop, neither should any servant 
or workman be permitted to work during the sermon. 
Nevertheless, it was allowed that if any person, either from 
engagements of public business, or any special service, 
could not come to the sermon at the sounding of the 
bell of San Lorenzo, he should not be taken nor imprisoned 
afterwards. And always there was much people, gentlemen 
and ladies. On the twenty-third of September, on Sunday, 
as well as could be judged and reckoned, there were more 
than three thousand persons at the sermon. He preached 
on the sacred Scriptures, reproving persons of every vice and 
wickedness, and expounding the Christian life. Then he 
denounced head-dresses, false hair, and every vain decora- 
tion of the women ; and the gaming-table, cards, dice, 
counterfeits, and amulets of the men : so that within fifteen 
days the women sent all their false hair, head-dresses and 
ornaments, and the men their dice, cards, tables, and such 
like in great quantity to the convent of St. Francis : and on 
the twenty-ninth of October, the friar Berardino caused all 
these diabolical things {cose diabolice) to be gathered in the 
piazza, and there had made a castle of wood, between the 
fountain and the bishop's palace, in which all the aforesaid 
things were placed, and on Sunday they were set on fire, 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



285 



after the sermon. The fire was so large that it would be 
impossible to describe it : things of the highest value being 
burned in it. So great was the rush of men and women to 
avoid the flames, that many would have stood in danger of 
their lives, if it had not been for the assistance of the citizens. 
At this sermon there was an infinite number of persons." 

A still more singular picture is presented to us in the 
account of a religious impersonification, or species of miracle- 
play, which forms an interesting comparison with its modern 
survivor in Bavaria. 

"On the fifth January (fourteen hundred and forty- 
eight) there came to Perugia a certain Friar Robert of 
Leccie, of the Order of the Observance of Saint Francis. 
He was twenty-two years of age, and came to preach the 
lent sermons. On the twenty-ninth of March, which was 
Good Friday, he commenced to preach in the piazza every 
day. On Holy Thursday he preached on the Communion, 
and invited all the people for Good Friday ; and at the end 
of his sermon on the Passion, he caused this representation 
to be made : that is, he preached at the head of the piazza, 
outside of the gate of San Lorenzo, where there was a 
terrace arranged, reaching from the gate to the corner, 
towards the house of Cherubino degli Armanni ; and there, 
when they should have displayed the crucifix, there came 
from San Lorenzo, Eliseo de Cristofano, a barber of the gate 
of St. Agnolo, in the likeness of Christ, naked, with the cross 
on his shoulder, the crown of thorns on his head, and his body 
appearing all beaten and scourged, as Christ was beaten. 
And there appeared armed men, who led him to be crucified ; 
and they went round the people, down towards the fountain, 
until they came to the entrance of the Scudellare ; and they 
then went up to the Audience Chamber of the Exchange, 
and thence to the above-mentioned terrace, and there, in the 
middle of the terrace, they were met by one in the character 
of the Virgin Mary, dressed all in black, weeping piteously, 
in the manner of the mystery of the passion of Jesus Christ : 
and when they had reached the place where Friar Robert 



286 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



stood, they remained there some time, the cross being still 
carried : and all the people wept and cried for mercy. 
Then the cross was laid down, and an image of Christ 
which had been prepared beforehand, was placed upon the 
cross, and it was raised, and then the cries of the people 
were much greater than before, and Our Lady began to 
lament at the foot of the cross, together with St. John and 
Mary Magdalene and Mary Salome, who pronounced some 
verses of the Lament of the Passion. And then came 
Nicodemus, and Joseph of Arimathea, and took away the 
body of Christ and placed it in the lap of Our Lady ; and 
then they placed it in the tomb, every one continually 
weeping with a loud voice. And many said that there 
was never in Perugia so great and pious devotion as this. 
And that morning there were six persons made friars : one 
was the above-mentioned Eliseo, a foolish youth, Tomaso 
di Marchegino, Bino, who was with the priors,* the son of 
Bocco del Borgho di Sant Antonio, and Ricciere di Fran- 
cescone di Tanolo. Many others had also previously taken 
upon them the monkish garb by reason of the preaching of 
the said Friar Robert." 

If the historian had ended his narrative here one might 
have had the more faith in the powerful mode of appeal 
made by the earnest friar : but he carries it on a little 
further : — 

" At the end of three or four months," he says, " the said 
Eliseo di Cristofano of the Porta St. Agnolo came out of 
the monastery and returned to his business of barber, and 
was afterwards called by the name of Domenedio (Lord- 
God), and then he took a wife and became a greater ribald 
than he was before." 

I shall only make one more extract from these curious 
old records. It is the description of a singular custom of 
the city, which was called a "game," which no doubt helped 
to keep up the belligerent spirit of the times. It went by 
the name of the Battle of Stones (La Battaglia di Sassi), 
* The priors were the chief persons or magistrates of the city. 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



287 



and is thus described by Campano in his Life of Braccio 
Fortebraccio. 

" The whole city was divided into two parts, the one at 
the top, and the other at the bottom of the piazza, furnished 
with new and unaccustomed arms ; although there were 
some, in order to be more light and nimble, who only carried a 
shield, wearing a helmet and boots of raw and indurated hide ; 
or instead of a shield, a hood was worn, these being called 
lancers, for the facility they had in throwing and sheltering 
themselves. These, on account of their dexterity, led the 
first battle, and then, when it was fairly commenced, retired 
behind another class of combatants, called armed troops. 
The armour of these was much heavier than that borne in 
battle. They wore on their feet certain light shoes, made 
of linen cloth folded three times, stuffed with stags' hair ; 
on the legs, up to the knee, they wore the same material 
covered with very hard double leather, the knee being pro- 
tected with iron greaves covered over with scarlet cloth. 
The body was defended by a cuirass, under which were 
placed waddings of tow and cotton sewn in linen, which 
lay close to the person, covering the shoulders and back, 
and falling to the elbows like sleeves. They also wore 
collars of cloth and cotton, covered with very hard raw 
hide about the throat and neck. The head was covered 
with a helmet, which was pointed in front like the beak of 
a falcon ; and in order that they might the better be able to 
see the stones in the air and use their own with more 
advantage against the adversary, there were two large holes 
cut in the front, leaving the sight exposed. At the top of 
this helmet there was a roll woven of hard felt three times 
doubled, spread out in the form of a cap surmounted by a 
plume of purple or silver, according to the calling of him 
who wore it : this was tipped with a crest of various colours.' 
The shoulders were covered half way down to the waist 
with a red mantle, all the rest of the back being ornamented 
with beautiful vestments. These were they who were called 
armed troops, whose function was not so much to contend 



288 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



with the adversary, as to act as reserves to sustain the 
battle, although they often enough fought themselves, and 
for this purpose carried a cudgel, tied to their right arm, 
and a shield on the left. When all the people armed in 
various ways were congregated in the piazza, each retired 
to the one side or the other, and thus divided into parties, 
one occupied the top, and the other the bottom of the 
piazza, the fighting taking place in the midst. The first to 
enter upon the battle were the most spirited and robust of 
the young men, fighting until the hour of tierce ; then the 
boys alone, armed also for defence, throwing stones, the 
one against the other, for two hours continuously. The 
rest of the day was occupied in fighting promiscuously 
both young and old. Those with the protective head-gear 
were placed in front, whose office it was to throw at the 
adversary from a distance, and as neither of these would 
retire, they at last closed upon each other, whereupon the 
armed troops came forward. It was considered a disgrace 
for the latter to throw stones, but rushing into the midst, they 
used their cudgels and their shields, not desisting because 
others were throwing stones at them in the meantime. It 
was a fine sight (bellissimo spettacold) to see first one fall 
down wounded, and then another rolled over on the ground, 
some protected by their shields flinging themselves with 
their full weight on the adversary, or throwing themselves 
into the thick of the fight, and giving it their opponents on 
the face and eyes with shield and cudgel. The victory 
consisted in occupying the middle of the piazza, the enemy 
having been driven from it. But the finest sight of all was 
to see the old men, who, standing at the windows, as soon 
as they saw the party they were attached to give way or 
flee, without having respect to their years or infirmities (so 
great was the enthusiasm of the parties), rush out of the 
houses, and taking off their mantles and vests, run to give 
them help and rally them. Two thousand citizens frequently 
fought in this manner in the piazza. Xor did the strife 
ever pass without bloodshed, every year ten or twenty men 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



289 



remaining either dead or disabled. This diversion was not, 
however, prolonged throughout the year. It only com- 
menced in the month of March, continuing for the two 
months following, and was only practised on holidays. The 
parents of those who were killed never recognising any 
injury or enmity whatever, considered the deaths the result 
of accident or misfortune. The combat was never ter- 
minated until one of the parties was driven from its posi- 
tion. Finally, whoever called for peace, whether boy or 
man, the combatants separated. Every one said that there 
was no game in Italy so desperate as this ; and it was 
believed that on this account the people had become so 
vigorous in body and undaunted in mind. The soldiers of 
Braccio frequently took part with the youths, and entered 
into the battle, but they were easily worsted by the Peru- 
gians. It is said that Braccio, once standing at a window 
which overlooked the piazza, was asked to command a truce* 
the encounter being so obstinate that neither party would give 
way, so that many were falling. ' Do you wish,' he replied, 
' that I should be like the mayor of Sinigaglia ?' Which is a 
proverb used when a command, however often given, is not 
obeyed ; perhaps even he who commands being disposed to 
follow an opposite course." 

Perugia is dignified by many very noble works of art. Here 
Pietro Vanucci, called Perugino, lived and worked with a 
mind always calm, enriched by some of the sweetest and 
tenderest imagery that ever blossomed from the human 
soul. The Cambio, or Exchange, still bears upon its walls 
some of the glories of his pencil : prophet, warrior, and 
philosopher, all refined to a delicate spiritualism which 
causes them to appeal to the soul rather than the eye. He 
seems to have lived in a world quite remote from the clash 
and din of the middle ages, tenanted by calm and happy 
beings, to whom all storms were lulled in the peace of a 
tranquil mind, accordant with itself and with that by which 
it was surrounded. 

The principal piazza has remained unchanged. Its old 

U 



290 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



fountain with its half obliterated sculptures gave us many 
hours delightful occupation in the attempt to spell out its 
quaint fancies, Sometimes in the afternoons, when the 
shadows began to stretch along the sward, we would recline 
before the glorious facade of Agostino Ducci at the church 
of the confraternity of Saints Andrea and Bernardino, 
studying with delighted eyes the moving assemblage of 
angelic forms that float and wave over its surface, drawing 
the soul with them in mazy ecstasies of delight. Sometimes 
we would follow the courses of the hills, and, seated amongst 
the olives, strive to carry away upon paper some me- 
morial of the prospect by which we were surrounded. Thus 
passed the artist's holiday, whose life has so much to make it 
always a holiday when it is ordinarily prosperous and happy. 

About ten miles from Perugia, connected with the Tiber 
by a small tributary, is Assisi, an old-fashioned mediaeval 
town built on a rise at the foot of the Apennines., : Once 
it was a busy and important little place : now its vitality is 
absorbed in the neighbourhood of the more active and 
wealthy Perugia. It is but the shadow of what it was. Its 
long dreary streets only echo emptily to the feet of a few 
passers ; its ancient mansions falling to decay. Here and 
there at picturesque corners are seen shrines of the Madonna 
painted centuries ago, before which the tiny lamp still burns 
and the votive wreath is laid ; their fine old frescoes gradually 
crumbling from the walls. Above its terraced ways, overlook- 
ing the whole town and the broad Umbrian plain, a broken 
old castle keeps grim and watch and ward with sturdy walls 
resisting the wintry blast, which here sometimes rushes from 
the gorges of the hills with terrible fury. At one side of 
the town and somewhat lower in elevation rises the church 
of St. Francis and the convent with its cloistered galleries 
and spiring cypresses, venerable in religious history. 

Assisi is of very ancient origin. It was probably a town 
in the earliest days of Rome. A fine portico of an ancient 
temple of Minerva still remains, which is now built into a 
church in the piazza. It is supposed to have been the 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASS IS I, ETC. 



291 



birthplace of the Latin poet Propertius, alluded to in his 
epistle to Tullus : " Umbria, rich in fertile land joining close 
to the champaign country beneath, gave me birth." * 

Metastasio the famous dramatic poet was also born here. 
But it derives far more of its celebrity from having been the 
home and birthplace of St. Francis, whose influence had so 
wide and large a power throughout Europe in the Middle 
Ao-es. He was born in one thousand one hundred and 
eighty-two ; the son of a well-to-do cloth merchant. In 
early life he appears to have been one of the gayest and 
most spirited young gallants of his time, singing troubadour 
songs in the streets — always ready to join in the con- 
vivialities of his companions, without any traces of the 
asceticism for which he was afterwards distinguished. He 
must have taken part in the embroilments which were 
constantly occurring between his native town and Perugia, 
since he once lay a prisoner for a whole year at the latter 
place. As he grew into manhood more serious sentiments 
were gradually impressed upon his mind. Like, every newly 7 
awakened soul he at first sought blindly after his real 
destiny and function through endless doubts and perplexi- 
ties. It resolved itself to him afterwards in a literal accep- 
tation of the doctrines of Christianity, which he received 
rather from the side of dogma than interpreted as reason- 
able laws. His final step was to adopt the condition of entire 
and absolute poverty. From a few followers his doctrines 
— or rather his example ; for he was a man of few words, and 
taught no more orally than might be easily set down upon 
a sheet of foolscap — influenced the whole of Christendom, 
reaching from the highest grade of society to the lowest. 
In England the order which he instituted was called that of 
the Black Friars. Perhaps no one ever lived a more con- 
sistent life. His rule of poverty was never broken. When 
he gave up his last mantle, all but the garment which he wore 

* Proxima supposito contingens Umbria campo 
Me genuit, terris fertilis uberibus. 

El. i. 22. 

U 2 



292 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



nearest his skin, to a destitute beggar, he said, "This man's 
misery covers us with confusion ; for we have chosen poverty 
as a great treasure, .and lo ! he is poorer than any one of 
us." He carried neither scrip nor purse ; never accumulat- 
ing anything ; but always having his needs supplied, either 
by the labour of his hands or the charity of others. That 
which he professed and followed was the very chivalry of 
religion. " Truly this is the camp and army of the knights 
of God," exclaimed Cardinal Ugolino as he came upon the 
straw huts which the new order had erected near Assisi. 
Nothing is more striking in the character of this noble- 
hearted enthusiast than his love for the whole creation — 
his recognition of the purposes of God throughout the 
universe. He called the sun his brother and death his 
sister ; the fire that burnt him and the pains that tore him 
in his last illness were addressed in similar terms. The 
birds were his brothers and sisters : every creature was dear 
to him. The poet could not have had a better illustration that, 

He prayeth well who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 

His mission was a great one. He impressed upon all 
Christendom by a fine example, when absolute power and 
riches, ill-gotten though they might be, were considered the 
highest earthly good and worthiest object of life, that their 
attainment far from being indispensable to happiness was 
frequently a hinderance to it. When his country and, indeed 
the whole of Europe, were torn with factions he came to 
reinforce the blessings of peace and good will. To the im- 
placable and remorseless cruelty of his time he taught 
tenderness and gentleness. He placed reason and right 
before the intoxications of ambition ; and though his own life 
was an exaggerated one, perhaps nothing less would have 
served to oppose and curb the redundant extravagancies 
of the age in which he lived. Whatever may appear to 
have been the mistakes of such a life, looking at it with the 
social views of to-day, it was undoubtedly based on a truly 
heroic sentiment which had its warrantable mission then. 



Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



It was to commemorate him that the fine church here 
which bears his name was built — or rather it may be called 
three churches, one standing above the other. Never had 
man a nobler monument raised to his memory. Command- 
ing some of the sweetest and most picturesque scenery of 
Italy, it stands midway between the summits of the 
Apennines rising behind it and the low-lying plain of 
Foligno that sweeps from the foot of the hill to Perugia on 
the one side and Spoleto on the other, a distance of forty 
miles. A river winds beneath it, issuing from the recesses 
of the mountains, following a northward course to the Tiber 
through a considerable part of this fertile plain. The situation 
is thus described by Dante in his ' Paradise.' 

Betwixt Tupino and the stream descending 
Down from the hill the blest Ubaldo chose, 
A fertile tract is from the mount depending; 
Whence to Perugia heat and cold do come 
Through Porta Sole; and behind it those 
Of Nocera and Gualdo mourn their doom. 
On that side where the mountain falls away. 
Most gently, to the world a sun was born, 
As from the Ganges springs the solar ray. 
Whoso would therefore call the place aright — 
Let it no longer of its fame be shorn, 
And orient, not Ascesi be it hight* 



* Wright's translation. These are the words of Dante : 

Intra Tupino e P acqua che discende 
Del colle eletto dal beato Ubaldo, 
Fertile costa d'alto monte pende, 

Onde Perugia sente freddo e caldo 
Da Porta Sole; e diretro le piange 
Per greve giogo Nocera con Gualdo. 

Di quella costa, la dov'ella frange 

Piu sua rattezza, nacque al mondo un Sole 
Come fa questo talvolta di Gange. 

Pero chi d' esso loco fa parole 

Non dica Ascesi, che direbbe corto, 
Ma Oriente, se proprio dir vuole. 

Par. xi. 43. 



294 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



The lowest of the three churches of St. Francis is the most 
modern, It is the sepulchral crypt formed from a hollow in 
the rock where the remains of the saint were found within the 
present century ; the two upper churches were commenced 
early in the thirteenth century ; a hundred years elapsing 
before their completion. The lower of these two is the ideal 
of a Christian temple as a place of pensive retirement. It 
consists of a nave and transept composed of low, wide-span- 
ning arches ; every inch of the walls being covered either 
with pictures or ornamental decoration. It is pervaded by 
a solemn gloom, even on bright days ; the light being 
only sparingly admitted through painted windows. 

Of the many precious works of art enshrined in these 
religious shades I shall only mention one, probably the 
masterpiece of Giotto, painted at the close of the thirteenth 
century, which decorates the ceiling above the high altar. 
It is a large fresco in four compartments, three of them re- 
presenting the characteristic virtues of St. Francis, Poverty, 
Chastity and Obedience, and the fourth his glorification, 
surrounded by the hosts of heaven. They are epic in treat- 
ment and abstrusely allegorical in their mode of expres- 
sion. In one of them St. Francis is being married to Poverty 
by our Lord. She is represented as a tattered female, with 
her feet amongst thorns, her head being surrounded with 
roses. Angels witness the ceremony. Two little boys in 
the foreground throw mud at the espoused couple, a dog 
barking viciously at a little distance.* 

* Towards the end of the thirteenth century the doctrines of St. 
Francis had obtained so wide an influence and became so largely abused, 
that vast numbers of persons of all ages and both sexes left their houses 
and homes for the profession of poverty — even to destitution. This was 
productive of many evils and very great disorders; so much so that 
Giotto himself, who had lent his pencil to illustrate the nobility of poverty 
of spirit, and to protest against the inordinate desire of acquisition, thought 
it necessary to use his pen as a corrective to the prevailing frenzy, in a 
poem found by Trucchi in the Laurentian Library, and reprinted in his 
' Poesie Inedite.' " No '1 commendo," he says, " che rade volte stremo e 
senza vizio " (I do not advocate it, for rarely are extremes without 
sin) ; adding that if any should say it was commended by our Lord, 



C HAP. X. 



PERUGIA, AS SIS I, ETC. 



295 



The third church built above this is in direct contrast to 
it, It has a lofty ceiling ornamented with golden stars 
upon an ultramarine ground. It is full of light and air, and 
though some of its brilliant colours have suffered during the 
lapse of almost six hundred years, there are still abundant 
signs left of its former splendour. The fine puristic frescoes 
that decorate the walls have been attributed to Giotto ; but 
the discriminating art-student will probably come to the 
conclusion that but few of them can be from his own 
immediate hand. 

It was a noble idea to set forth the blossoming of the 
virtues hardest to follow in this elaborate structure — the 
mortal sowing and the immortal reaping — the growth from 
darkness into light — the groping amongst shadowy forms of 
dimly discerned glories, till elevated into the regions of a 
loftier radiance, they glow with a new lustre imparting light 
to the day and fire to the sun. 

Adjoining the church is the convent of St. Francis, 
founded during the lifetime of the saint, early in the 
thirteenth century. It consists of cloisters, cells and gal- 
leries, constructed upon vast mural archways built against 
the hill side. Strange to say this convent was singularly 
privileged to be the holder of property : so that instead of 
being a community of poor friars living by labour or alms 



Che pero'l suo aver poco 
Si fu per noi scampare dall' avarizia, 
E non per darci via d'usar malizia. 
(That his doctrine of possessing little was given forth that we might avoid 
avarice, and not to open the way to evil.) In the same way Guido 
Cavalcanti calls poverty, 

Sposa d'ogni cosa persa 
Per la quale e sommersa 
D' onor al mondo ogni viva radice. 

(The spouse of each polluted thing, by which is subverted every living 
root of honour in the world.) 

Guido Cavalcanti's poem is translated at length in Mr. D. G. Rossetti's 
' Early Italian Poets:' a valuable selection of conscientiously reproduced 
examples of the primi secoli too little known. 



296 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



as their founder did, it was the seat of a wealthy religious 
body, and became a sort of aristocratic retreat for men of 
culture and refinement, who inhabited roomy and whole- 
some apartments ; very different from those of other con- 
vents of the same order. It is, of course, now dispossessed 
and altogether gives an impression of intense melancholy — 
an impression that is deepened if one enters the church at 
eventide as the setting sun throws his last struggling beams 
through the painted pane, and instead of the full choir of 
former days, one hears the forlorn voices of a few religious 
brothers mournfully repeating the evening offices of the 
church which are echoed from empty walls and deserted 
benches. 

The mediaeval condition of Assisi was, of course, an un- 
settled one. The jealousy of its rulers and those of Perugia 
constantly bred ill-feeling between them, which at last dif- 
fusing itself amongst the people, was turned to the bitterest 
enmity ; so much so that even traces of it are left to this day 
in the occasional disparagement with which the inhabitants 
of the one place speak of those of the other without any 
apparent cause. One picture from Campano of the taking of 
the town by Piccinino of Perugia in the year one thousand 
four hundred and forty-two will sufficiently illustrate this. 

" Piccinino, after having deferred the attack of Assisi until 
the twenty-eighth of November, finally determined to advance 
upon it at all hazards, and receiving opportune help from 
Perugia, he distributed the people in this manner : Pazzaglia, 
Pierbrunoro, and Riccio, from Citta di Castello, with all 
their companies, were sent towards the upper fortress : 
Piergiovampaolo with the Perugians towards San Francesco ; 
whilst he and his troops spread themselves about the other 
parts of the city, giving orders to all that when the sign of 
onset was given, they should approach the walls, and placing 
ladders against them, should make every effort to enter the 
city. By particular information he had also the secret 
knowledge of an ancient aqueduct which commencing out- 
side the city above the fortress, being smaller towards the 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA. ASSIST, ETC. 



297 



place called the Carceri, and opening into the city at the 
market-place, appeared to offer a convenient passage for as 
many soldiers as he could wish, if it were cleared of the 
stakes and rubbish which had been formerly placed there 
to bar the entrance. He accordingly sent thither Pazzaglia 
and Riccio, with three hundred foot, who, sawing asunder 
the upright beams which closed it, opened a way which 
easily admitted the soldiers one by one. Thus making use 
of the aqueduct, he sent a thousand of the best men of the 
army into the city, which occupied the whole night. The 
Perugian writers, however, do not give so large a number. 
In the morning a little before dawn, it is said, they were 
discovered in the city by one carrying a lighted torch, who 
was passing a place where there were no houses, and hear- 
ing persons near, called out several times, ' Who is there ? 
At last they replied, * Friends.' Whereupon, perceiving 
thev were enemies, he went away and commenced shoutinsr, 
' To arms, to arms : the enemy is amongst us !' This caused 
those who were on guard to give notice to the other citizens 
and soldiers, who took their arms and ran to the place whence 
they heard the cries. In the meanwhile Pazzaglia and his 
company, perceiving they were discovered, although the full 
number of soldiers ordered by Piccinino had not yet entered 
the aqueduct, emerged, and mounting the walls, cried, 
1 Ladders, ladders ; come up, come up !' which being heard 
by Piccinino, who happened to be near, he was quickly at 
the foot of the walls, and flinging himself from his horse, 
made the attack at a small aperture, which the Assisans 
had opened for the purpose of skirmishing, large enough to 
admit one man at a time ; the gates being kept closed. 
Through this Piccinino entered, and, afterwards, his horse, 
upon which being mounted, he commanded that the breach 
should be widened, so that a man on horseback might pass 
through, which was immediately done, so that his troops 
were able to enter with ease. In the meanwhile the soldiers 
on guard and the people within the city had attacked those 
who had entered by the aqueduct, and were in close engage- 



298 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



ment with them when the cavalry of Piccinino came up 
shouting ' Braccio, Braccio ! Piccinino, Piccinino !' throwing 
themselves with such energy upon the others that they were 
forced to retire to the fortress. Immediately Count Carlo 
Fortebraccio went thither with a good number of cavalry, 
whereupon the foreign troops in the service of the Assisans to 
the number of eight hundred, surrendered themselves ; all 
of whom, at the desire of Piccinino, were spared uninjured. 
Whilst this w r as going on at the fortress, Piergiovampaolo, 
who as already stated was with the Perugians at the part 
near San Francesco, when he heard the cries of his party, 
also mounted the walls and entered the city, driving away 
the guard from the gates, setting fire to them, and throw- 
ing down the defences which the Assisans had raised, thus 
opening a way for his troops, who entered the city, repulsing 
the few that resisted, and setting themselves to pillage the 
houses. Piergiovampaolo went to San Francesco making 
many prisoners, who had ran thither expecting to find secu- 
rity in that sacred place : he also took many things thence. 
Alessandro Sforza, brother of Count Francesco, who had 
come to Assisi, as has been said, on the twenty-first of the 
month, to animate the courage of the citizens, promising 
them succour, when he found the enemy within the city, 
knowing his impotency to oppose them, retired to the larger 
fortress with a good number of the principal citizens who 
had followed him thither. By the magnanimity of Piccinino 
these were liberated on the following day. Alessandro having 
signified to Piccinino that he wished to speak with him, the 
latter sent his secretary to him, to whom Alessandro said, 
that for himself he asked neither grace nor favour, but that 
he desired extremely that those citizens of Assisi who had 
taken shelter with him in the fortress might be liberated. 
To this Piccinino agreed ; allowing them to issue from their 
retreat on his word of honour ; so that they went about the 
city without fear of violence, unmolested by any one. But 
the soldiers of Piccinino having in divers places overcome 
the enemy, and having the victory in their hands, leaving off 



Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASS/SI, ETC. 299 



fighting began to sack the houses, making prisoners of the 
citizens they met, and, without any regard, scattering misery 
and ruin at their pleasure. An anonymous writer of Perugia 
narrating the occurrence, says, that such was the consterna- 
tion, the uproar, the cries of the women, the children, and 
the old men, one bewailing a son, another a father, another 
a brother, that the very soldiers who had stripped the 
houses and dragged out the women, compassionating their 
distress, offered them the safety of their lives and the op- 
portunity of escape ; but they, all disordered, bewailing 
themselves and their ill-fortune, refused everything, only 
asking their death. Of these many were led out of the city, 
but more by those soldiers who had been placed on guard than 
by others, because they had more confidence in them, and 
went voluntarily. It is also narrated that many Perugians 
joining this undertaking, not from any desire which they 
had for it, but by order of their superiors, pitying the misery 
and wretchedness of these women, did their utmost to pro- 
cure the safety of their persons and their goods, but that 
they drew upon themselves and their property the greater 
injury, by not trusting themselves to the Perugians ; for, 
instead of seeking safety from them, they would rather place 
themselves in the hands of the foreigners ; so great was the 
hatred they had conceived towards them. There is also 
a very notable fact told of this occurrence. During this 
revolution in affairs, a great number of women and children 
with their effects had sought refuge in the convent of Santa 
Chiara of the order of St. Francis, which was very large 
and celebrated, thinking to find security there, as well for 
the sake of religion as for the excellence of the convent. 
Whilst everything was being submitted to the sack of the 
soldiers, Niccolo Piccinino came up, and seeing there so 
many women and children, said to the women, and speci- 
ally to the nuns, that everywhere being overrun by the 
soldiery, this was no longer a fitting place for them to 
remain, and that they might choose where they would go, 
promising them escort and safety ; and at the same time 



3oo THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



naming various places in the vicinity, and amongst others his 
own city, Perugia. Upon which, first the nuns and then the 
other women with one voice indignantly cried, ' We go to 
Perugia ! May consuming fires enter into it ; but not we !' 
Piccinino growing angry at this, as something too insolent, 
immediately turned to his men crying, ' To the pillage !' 
and so presently everything went to ruin without regard to 
the sisterhood or religion : the example being followed in 
every other temple and sacred place, nowhere being secure 
from the lawlessness of the soldiers, all being equally 
submitted to sack and destruction. Only San Francesco 
was saved from the first onset which Piergiovampaolo had 
made from the outside, because Piccinino had sent a guard 
thither in observance of a promise which he had made to 
the reverend fathers of that community, who in that fear- 
ful night were of no little service to the people ; passing 
through the town, by permission obtained from the captain, 
and wherever they found women, either in the houses or in 
the streets, taking them to San Francesco, where, by their 
means, many were placed in safety. The loss and damage 
to the city was immense ; for there was no' place, public or 
private, sacred or profane, which was not made the prey of 
the soldiers, who with their customary liberty and licence, 
without any restraint from their general, used the greatest 
cruelty in carrying off women and girls to obtain money 
for them, and to give them to the service of others, of 
whom many were redeemed by the Perugians, not for their 
own interest, but to get them out of the hands of the 
soldiers and send them back to their homes." 

On this occasion all the public archives as well as vast 
quantities of private documents were burnt, which were 
sufficient to maintain a large bonfire for three days. 
/ Whilst at Assisi the pilgrim of the Tiber must not omit 
to visit one of its famous tributaries, the Clitumnus, which 
under another name falls into it near Diruta. Its source is 
to be found a few miles beyond Trevi. One delightful 
afternoon, in company with a friend, I explored its upper 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



301 



course. It has many classical associations. The younger 
Pliny gives so circumstantial a description of it in a letter 
to his friend Romanus, as it existed in the first century of 
the Christian era, that I cannot do better than transcribe it 
here in full. 

" Have you ever seen," he says, " the source of the river 
Clitumnus ? As I never heard you mention it, I imagine 
not. Let me therefore advise you to visit it immediately. 
It is but lately, indeed, that I had that pleasure, and I 
condemn myself for not having viewed it sooner. At the 
foot of a little hill covered with venerable and shady cypress- 
trees, a spring issues, which gushing out in different and 
unequal streams, forms itself, after several windings, into a 
spacious basin, so extremely clear, that you may see the 
pebbles and the little pieces of money which are thrown 
into it as they lie at the bottom From thence it is carried 
off, not so much by the declivity of the ground, as by its 
own weight and exuberance. It is navigable almost as soon 
as it has quitted its source, and wide enough to admit a free 
passage for vessels to pass each other as they sail with or 
against the stream. The current runs so strong, though the 
ground is level, that the large barges which go down the 
river have no occasion to make use of their oars, while those 
which ascend find it difficult to advance with the assistance 
of oars and poles ; and this vicissitude of labour and ease is 
exceedingly amusing when one sails up and down merely 
for pleasure. The banks on each side are shaded with 
great numbers of verdant ash and poplar-trees, as distinctly 
reflected in the stream as if they were actually existing in 
it. The water is as cold as snow, and as lucid too. Near 
it stands an ancient and venerable temple, wherein is placed 
a statue representing the river-god Clitumnus in his proper 
vestment; and, indeed, the prophetic oracles here delivered 
sufficiently testify the immediate presence of that divinity. 
Several little chapels are scattered round, dedicated to 
particular gods, distinguished by different names, and some 
of them, too, presiding over different fountains. For, besides 



302 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



the principal spring, which is, as it were, the parent of all 
the rest, there are several smaller streams, which, taking 
their rise from various sources, lose themselves in the river, 
over which a bridge is thrown that separates the sacred part 
from that which lies open to common use. Vessels are 
allowed to come above this, but no person is permitted to 
swim except below it. The Hispellates [inhabitants of 
Spello] to whom Augustus gave this place, furnish a public 
bath, and likewise entertain all strangers at their own ex- 
pense. Several villas, attracted by the beauty of this river, 
are situated upon its borders. In short, every surrounding 
object will afford you entertainment. You may also amuse 
yourself with numberless inscriptions fixed upon the pillars 
and walls by different persons, celebrating the virtues of the 
fountain and the divinity who presides over it. There are 
many of them you will greatly admire, as there are some 
that will make you laugh ; but I must correct myself when 
I say so ; you are too humane, I know, to laugh upon such 
an occasion. Farewell."* 

The cypresses have vanished from its source, and the 
channel of the stream must have been since contracted, or 
else the barges at that time must have been very narrow ; 
as it would be difficult now to navigate it with more than 
one barge at a time : there would certainly be no room for 
the use of oars in any case. 

Suetonius, in his ' Life of Caligula,' says that, " Only 
once did he take an active part in military affairs, and 
then not from any set purpose, but during his journey to 
Mevania [Bevagna], to see the river Clitumnus and its 
grove." 

It was not only held sacred in itself, but the animals 
pastured on its banks were supposed to have gained their 
whiteness from drinking its waters. In allusion to [this 
belief, Virgil, in singing the praises of Italy, thus apostro- 
phises it : " Hence the white flocks, Clitumnus, and the 
bull, principal victim, which often bathed in thy sacred 
* Ep. viii. 8. (Melmoth's translation.) 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASS IS I, ETC. 



stream, leads the Roman Triumph to the temples of the 
gods."* 

It still retains its ancient character. Crystalline in its 
purity — "limpid and clear as the mind of the just," it 
rushes swiftly forwards through vineyards and orchards, 
each turn revealing some new and delightful piece of 




TEMPLE OF THE CLITUMNUS. 



rusticity. Sometimes we came upon an aged tree covered 
with ivy ; sometimes a patch of newly-reaped stubble ; some- 
times we found little nooks and corners filled with luxu- 
riant blossoms. Long green trailers were clearly seen in its 

* Hinc albi, Clitumne, greges et maxima taurus 
Victhna, ssepe tuo perfusi flumine sacro 
Romanos ad templa Deum duxere triumphos. 

Geor. ii. 146. 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 



bed, waving to and fro as the stream went over them. On a 
hot day it was inevitable that one should be tempted to the 
luxury of a bath. I quickly undressed, and plunging into 
the water was immediately seized with a most benumbing 
coldness. A few strokes, in the vain attempt to head the 
current, and I was on the bank again, shivering in the hot 
sunshine. Near a little village called Pissignano, which 
thrusts up the fragment of an old mediaeval tower from the 
olive slopes, a short distance before reaching the source 
of the stream, we found the famous temple that still 
ornaments its banks. It consists of a facade with pedi- 
ment and tympanum supported by four columns ; two 
carved in imbricated foliage and two in spiral flutings. 
There are several inscriptions upon it ; the passage for 
conveying away the blood of the sacrifices is also still to 
be seen. At the back of the temple there is the raised 
carving of a cross surrounded by ornamental work, which 
has given rise to the supposition that it might have been a 
temple dedicated to Christian worship ; but it is far more 
probable that the Christian symbol was of later insertion. 
It is built of the calcareous stone of the district, and still 
remains in excellent preservation, though somewhat injured 
by an earthquake that occurred in this part of Umbria in 
eighteen hundred and thirty-one. The upper part of the 
temple has within it a modern altar set with nosegays and 
hung about with pictures ; worthless excepting for the pur- 
pose for which they were placed there. Readers of ' Childe 
Harold ' will hardly require to be reminded of Lord Byron's 
description of this interesting old relic and its situation. 

But thou, Clitumnus, in thy sweetest wave 
Of the most living crystal that was e'er 
The haunt of river nymph, to gaze and lave 
Her limbs where nothing hid them, thou dost rear 
Thy grassy banks whereon the milk-white steer 
Grazes ; the purest god of gentle waters, 
And most serene of aspect and most clear; 
Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters — 
A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters ! 



Chap. X. 



PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 



305 



And on thy happy shore a temple still 
Of small and delicate proportion, keeps 
Upon a mild declivity of hill 
Its memory of thee; beneath it sweeps 
Thy current's calmness : oft from out it leaps 
The finny darter with the glittering scales 
Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps, 
While chance some scattered water-lily sails 
Down where the shallower wave still tells its bubbling tales. 

Hard by the temple a mill, turned by the river, greets the 
ear with its homely sound, near which a weeping-willow 
dips its pendant branches into the water. 

A little farther its source is reached at a place called 
Le Vene. It gushes out from the foot of a mountain in 
several copious springs which, after flowing hither and 
thither amongst the water-flags and rushes, unite into one 
stream. The spot is a very beautiful one. On the one 
side rises a range of lofty hills connected with the Apen- 
nines : on the other the wide Umbrian valley stretches, 
laughing with corn, wine, and oil. Far across, another 
mountain-range bounds the plain, white clouds gathered 
about its peaks and the sunshine resting there as it did 
when the milk-white steer was led to the stream to receive 
its ablutions in preparation for the sacrifice. 




CHURCH AND CONVENT OF ST. FRANCIS AT ASSTSI. 



t 306 ) 



Chap. XI. 



CHAPTER XL 

FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 

ANOTHER locality connected with the Tiber by a small 
stream or torrent, is the famous lake and plains of 
Thrasimene, where the celebrated battle was fought, two 
hundred and fifty years before the Christian era, in which 
the Carthaginian general, Hannibal, defeated the Romans 
so signally : one of the very few occasions upon which the 
Romans suffered an absolutely disastrous defeat at the 
hands of their enemies. The lake is now called the Lake of 
Perugia, from which town it is about sixteen miles distant. 
The battle occurred during the second Punic war ; after 
Hannibal had made his memorable and hazardous passage of 
the Alps, and ravaging the heart of Italy, was marching 
straight for Rome, when he was met here by the Roman 
army under the Consul Flaminius. Flaminius had been 
stationed at Arretium (Arezzo), of which the Carthaginians 
being aware, they avoided coming in contact with him at 
that place by taking a more easterly line of march through 
Faesula (Fiesole), possibly with the object of securing a 
more advantageous position for an engagement. The 
Roman consul was at this time awaiting reinforcements 
under his colleague, Cneius Servilius ; but when he saw 
the Carthagenians pass him along the plain of Arezzo on 
their way to Rome and the ravages they were committing 
with fire and sword — which they took care to render as 
apparent to him as possible — without regard to the wiser 
counsel of his officers, he prepared to follow them. 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



307 



Trending southwards from the plain lying beneath the 
town of Cortona, a range of considerable hills, called the 
Gualandro, bends downwards to the Lake of Thrasimene, 
only allowing a narrow pass between the shores on the one 
side and the rising ground on the other, thence opening 
into a wider plain, very much narrowed again at the 
southern extremity at the little town of Passignano, where 
the hills once more approach the lake, thus inclosing an 
irregularly extended semicircular space with the lake on the 
one side and the hills on the other. The battle has been 
circumstantially described by the old historians Livy and 
Polybius. It was fought early in the morning. The 
heights were occupied by the Carthaginian general with 
the pick of his Spanish and African troops, the lighter 
infantry occupying a lower position, whilst the cavalry were 
disposed about the immediate entrance of the defile. The 
whole plain was covered with a dense mist which had risen 
from the lake, effectually veiling the Roman army from a 
sight of the enemy. It is strange that the Romans should 
not have taken the precaution to reconnoitre their course 
previously to entering so dangerous a locality. As it was, 
they marched straight into the trap. No sooner had the 
whole army entered the defile than the foe poured upon them 
with all the advantages of surprise ; the Romans being still 
more confused from the mist that enveloped them on every 
side, concealing the position of the enemy and their number. 
In vain the consul rode hither and thither in the attempt 
to rally his panic-stricken troops. They were scarcely able 
to see or hear him. At last the soldiers being hemmed in 
on every side found their only chance lay in the use of 
their swords, so that the battle came to be, in a great 
measure, a personal combat. Some of the companies, 
indeed, fought so bravely that they perished to a man on 
the spot where they first stood. What was most re- 
markable was that an earthquake occurred in the thick of 
the engagement, which toppled down mountains, overthrew 
cities and changed the course of rivers, without being so 

X 2 



308 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XL 



much as perceived on either side ; so great was their ardour 
in fighting. In the midst of the fight Flaminius was seen 
urging on his troops, when there rode forth a horseman of 
the enemy covered with blood and dust, crying, " So this is 
he who is the slayer of our comrades and the devastator 
of our fields : he also shall be sacrificed to the manes of 
the dead ! " and riding irresistibly through the ranks 
which surrounded him, he pierced him mortally through 
the body with his lance. Upon this the whole army laid 
down their arms and fled wildly, precipitately, without 
knowing the direction in which they were going. Some 
fell on the bodies of the slain and were smothered by 
others falling on the top of them, some ran indiscriminately 
on the arms of the enemy, as if seeking their own death, 
others driven to the edge of the lake were fain to take the 
water as far as they could walk in it, but were thence 
pursued by the calvary and cut to pieces, whilst others 
swam far from land only to be drowned or to return and 
meet the fate of their companions. Nearly six thousand of 
the van of the army had cut their way gallantly through 
the enemy at an early stage of the engagement, escaping 
to the southern end of the plain, where they awaited the 
dispersion of the mist only to see the total defeat of their 
comrades. Seizing their standards, hastily, they retreated, 
but being pursued, overcome by famine and fatigue, they 
were induced to relinquish their arms under promise of 
safety. " A promise," says Livy, sarcastically, " kept with 
Punic fidelity, for they were immediately loaded with 
chains." Thus ended this great battle. For three fearful 
hours the work of slaughter proceeded without intermission. 
The little stream that courses the plain ran blood instead 
of water, and is known by the name of Sanguinetto, or the 
Runlet of Blood, to this day. 

In this battle fifteen thousand Romans were slain, and 
one thousand five hundred of the enemy their conquerors ; 
many afterwards, on both sides, dying of their wounds. 
The loss has even been computed as much greater. Han- 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 309 

nibal had his own soldiers buried upon the field. The 
body of Flaminius could not be found. 




LAKE THRASLMENE. SITE OF BATTLE. 



The spot and its associations have inspired some of the 
happiest lines of ' Childe Harold.' 

I roam 

By Thrasimene's lake, in the defiles 
Fatal to Roman rashness, more at home ; 
For there the Carthaginian's warlike wiles 
Come back before me, as his skill beguiles 
The host between the mountains and the shore, 
Where Courage falls in her despairing files, 
And torrents, swoll'n to rivers with their gore, 
Reek through the sultry plain, with legions scattered o'ei. 

Like to a forest fell'd by mountain winds ; 
And such the storm of battle on this day, 
And such the frenzy, whose convulsion blinds 
To all save carnage, that, beneath the fray, 
An earthquake reel'd unheededly away ! 



3io THE PILGRIMAGE OE THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



None felt stern Nature rocking at his feet. 
And yawning forth a grave for those who lay 
Upon their bucklers for a winding-sheet; 
Such is the absorbing hate when warring nations meet ! 

Far other scene is Thrasimene now ; 
Her lake a sheet of silver, and her plain 
Rent by no ravage save the gentle plough ; 
Her aged trees rise thick as once the slain 
Lay where their roots are : but a brook hath ta'en — 
A little rill of scanty stream and bed — 
A name of blood from that day's sanguine rain : 
And Sanguinetto tells ye where the dead 
Made the earth wet and turn'd the unwilling waters red. 

For the purpose of enjoying the sweet scenery of this 
charming spot and exploring the old battle-field, I took up 
my abode at a little inn at Passignano, on the borders of 
the lake. One afternoon I walked to the small town of 
Tuoro, which rises from the plain situated on an elevated 
mound covered with olives, the site of many a fierce struggle 
on that dreadful day. It was a wretched little town, 
without drainage, the streets being unpaved and strewn 
with rubbish, whilst the houses wore the air of falling 
completely to decay. In vain I went from alley to alley : 
the hot hours of a midsummer day had not yet passed : 
all the inhabitants had betaken themselves to rest ; only a 
few hungry dogs prowled about the street. At last I found 
a cobbler at his stall, who took me to a little bettola, or wine- 
shop, a dingy little cellar, where a few persons sat gossiping 
in the cool, whilst enjoying the refreshing draught of some 
thin wine. I entered into conversation with an intelligent- 
looking man of the group. Hearing my errand, he proffered 
to take me to the top of the bell-tower of the church, which 
commanded the whole plain and to point out to me the 
various supposed sites of the battle and probable manceu- 
vrings ; as he had learned them from a military man whom 
he had accompanied on a special survey of the ground. 
Indeed, the whole position was clear!}- to be seen — what 
infinite advantages would be gained by the first occupier of 
the spot, and how any attempt to take it would be fraught 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



3ii 



with the greatest difficulty. As we returned, he complained 
bitterly of the poverty of the district, and spoke of a project 
for draining the lake from which the miserable population 
hoped to reap much advantage. 

Although the scenery about the Lake of Thrasimene 
is by no means the finest in Italy, yet there is something 
in the broad sheet of water, spotted with its lovely islands 
and the low-flowing mountain lines, by which it is sur- 
rounded, which fills the mind with soothing impressions ; 
sometimes the prospect from the heights expanding before 
the eye in pictures of exquisite loveliness.^ The poverty of 
the district gives it a still more pathetic interest. The lake 
has very little fish in it, and the hilly district being none of 
the richest, the fruits of the earth are dearly won by the 
hardest toil. One evening, as I roamed the uplands, I met a 
bronze-faced lad of fourteen. There was a look of intelligence 
through his rusticity which caused me to enter into conversa- 
tion with him. He told me he was a farm-labourer ; and in 
answer to my questions as to his earnings, said that he 
was paid in kind, and never received money as wages. I 
said, I supposed then that he was paid pretty generously. 
" On the contrary," he said, " we receive barely enough for 
a subsistence, and as we have to take our produce to market 
we sometimes obtain very little for it — scarcely enough to 
give us the necessaries of life." All this was conveyed to 
me with a quiet self-possession of manner and that innate 
air of breeding which distinguishes even the peasant classes 
in many parts of Italy. With all his poverty he seemed 
cheerful and happy ; and when I gave him a trifle at part- 
ing he looked pleased and surprised, and went on his way 
with the contentment of a prince. 

Once more prosecuting our onward journey from Perugia 
we had thence a welcome addition to our little party in a 
congenial artist friend, Mr. E. Vedder. We started at an 
early hour of a brilliant morning, by the public diligence — a 
mode of travelling, which in Italy always offers quaint points 
of interest and specialities of character met with in no other 



312 



way. Commencing the descent of the hill upon which the 
town is built, our road at first lay between groves of olives 
and well-cultivated slopes ; but presently a most glorious 
panorama opened itself before us. In the midst of a very 
lovely valley, in which the soft lines of the hills were 
gradually lost, the river was seen embowered in luxu- 
riant foliage, patches of the clear blue of the sky mir- 
rored between the sharply-defined reflections of its banks. 
Across the stream a delicately-curved bridge was thrown, 
looking almost too frail to support itself. The effect was 
quite magical : the thin veil of the morning giving an ap- 
pearance of intangibility to the prospect, as if it would 
vanish with a breath. The scene was infinitely varied ; 
verdure of all shades and tints, nodding groves, towered 
heights, swelling - hills spotted with villas and farms ; then, 
nearest the river, low-lying groups of houses were clustered 
as if out of love for the meandering stream that wandered 
hither and thither until it was lost to the sight. After a 
while the hills subsided in gentler slopes. The banks of the 
river were diversified with straggling poplars surrounded 
with pastoral groves of grey old oaks, whose large boles 
rose from a carpet of emerald grass upon which the shadows 
stretched as if in shelter from the heat of the sun, which 
now began to burn down fiercely from the sky. On the 
other side of the stream well-wooded hills arose ; here and 
there a white homestead peeping from the foliage, or 
a lofty castle in grey blank ruin, the centre of many a 
mediaeval struggle and feudal quarrel. 

Long before the sun had reached the zenith we arrived 
at the little town of Fratta, where we stopped both to 
explore the district and to exercise our pencils in recording 
a very characteristic passage of the river. Fratta is now 
generally called Umbertidi ; as there are no fewer than 
three other towns in Umbria bearing the former name. 
Just outside of the town we found a cheerful and pleasant 
little inn that promised well for a cleanly and comfortable 
domicile. On signifying our desire for some refreshment 



Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



3i3 



the table was presently spread in an abundant, if not 
sumptuous manner ; our repast numbering amongst its 
dainties the luxury of caviare in addition to the several 
other appetizers which usually form a part of an Italian 
meal. 

Unlike most of the towns in this part of Italy, Fratta, 
instead of being placed on a height, stands upon the level 
bank of the river, which is here crossed by a wide stone 
bridge. It contains an old moated castle, now shorn of 
its terrors and gradually falling to decay. There is 
something exceedingly charming about the neighbourhood 
of this old-fashioned town. Shady lanes and pleasant 
field paths accompany the course of the river, bordered 
with black-branched willows and scented poplar shrubs. 
Without being absolutely romantic, the banks of the stream 
offer exquisite passages of soft characteristic beauty — just 
the thing to satisfy and delight the artist's quieter and 
tenderer moods. 

/ Fratta was founded by the miserable remnants of the 
Roman army defeated at Thrasimene. It had the usual 
mediaeval vicissitudes of pillage and burning. Fortebraccio 
once made a raid upon its territory, as Campano relates in 
his biography. He says, " That after having sacked many 
places of the country, he moved his camp alongside of the 
Tiber, not far from Fratta, to the district held by Perugia, 
and commenced to make it his prey. As the country 
people had no suspicion whatever of his intention — having 
driven their cattle to pasture and set themselves to work 
in the fields — he took a great number of the peasantry, 
together with their flocks and herds. The Perugian 
soldiers who were in the district, under the command of 
Ceccholino forced him to the combat ; but being repulsed at 
the first encounter, he lost some of his cavalry, and flying at 
full speed, sheltered himself on a neighbouring hill. Braccio, 
having ravaged the banks of the river, went with his army 
to the bridge of Pattolo. In the meanwhile, Ceccholino, 
having drawn some soldiers from a village near, galloped 



3H 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



off to Perugia." This was in order to prevent the further 
progress of the enemy : but Braccio, after having devastated 
the country about Fratta, retired to Todi, rewarding: his 
soldiers with the spoil they had taken. 

In all these raids and warfares the country people appear 
to have been the first and worst sufferers. At any moment 
liable to have their crops destroyed, their cattle stolen, 
their homes ruined and burned, their families outraged or 
slain, nothing could have been more insecure than the 
peasant life of that time. Their feudal lords might defend 
their castles or escape from them ; there was no defence or 
escape for their retainers. Compelled at any hour to take 
arms on behalf of their territorial governor, or to prosecute 
his quarrels, their domestic peace was destroyed, their 
honest gains lost, their occupations suspended in these 
brawls and feuds, out of which they were sure to come 
sufferers. So that in looking back, we must confess that 
the poorest rustic toiler of to-day is in a position of ease and 
comfort compared with the insecurity of the peasants' con- 
dition in these turbulent a^es. 

From Fratta the river traverses a plain between low- 
lying hills — a pleasant and cheerful country. As we passed 
along the road, peaceful rustic labours were being followed 
everywhere. The housewife sang at the door of her cottage, 
the ploughman called to his oxen, the thresher swung his 
slow flail, women stood up to their knees in the river washing 
clothes and chatting merrily. The bathers came down to 
the deeper pools and plunged into its waters, little children 
dabbled on its banks, and hissing geese stalked about in 
straggling rows. The river here becomes narrowed to a 
small stream, the additions made by its tributaries being- 
in a great measure lost in the course of a few miles along its 
hot pebbly bed. A little before reaching Citta di Castello, 
the sloping banks were covered with groves of oak, amongst 
which the blue morning mist still lingered ; the hills being 
broken into conical summits, surmounted here and there 
with a white church or glittering homestead. 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



3*5 



It was high noon as we entered Citta di Castello. Every 
blind and door was closed to the sun. As we rattled 
along the dazzling white pavement not a soul was visible, 
not even a dog. It was like a city of the dead. By the 
deserted loggias long green vine-sprays dangled in the sun. 
Grass grew in the streets. In the heart of a large town we 
were in perfect solitude. 

We took up our abode at the Cannoniera, once a palace 
of the Vitelli, an historic family, governing the place in 
the fifteenth century, noticeable also as amongst the first 
patrons of the painter Raphael. Curiously enough, in many 
of these towns removed from the beat of ordinary travellers 
we found ourselves better off in regard to accommodation 
than in most of those situated nearer to Rome. 

No sooner was our arrival noised about the town than 
all the vendors of curiosities and refuse lumber of any time 
since the Middle Ages poured upon us like birds of prey 
on their victim. Every one who had a piece of canvas that 
had once been a picture immediately brought it out. I am 
afraid I was very disrespectful to these antique treasures ; 
but V., who hoped to find something good amongst them, 
was deluged with demands upon his attention. Many 
a time I was stopped in the street with the inducement 
. of a great name to inspect some undiscovered gem of 
art. Unfortunately, I had had too much experience in 
these researches to be led aside by them. I knew the 
cracked and chipped remains of the almond-eyed Madonna, 
with the plethoric infant in her lap, before I had seen her ; 
the tattered and soiled fragments of tapestry, and broken 
bits of earthenware were not unfamiliar to me ; the bag of 
obliterated coins was an easy acquaintance ; the rusty nails, 
buckles, lamps, arrow-heads, snuff-boxes, surviving disloca- 
tions of worn-out tables and chairs, I was perfectly well 
acquainted with : so I referred them all to V. as a com- 
pratore (or buyer), who did not seem to succeed very well 
in convincing the people that everything which was decayed^ 
worm-eaten, and unsightly, was not necessarily valuable. 



3i 6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



Citta di Castello was the ancient Tifernum. The younger 
Pliny had a villa near, which he describes very circum- 
stantially in a letter to his friend Apollinaris. It had a 
fitness of situation here, as he held the office of conservator 
of the river and surveyor of its banks. No appliance of 
art appears to have been wanting to have made it one 
of the most delightful and elegant of retreats. It had 
numerous rooms and extensive pleasure-grounds, with box 
and other trees clipped into fantastic forms. Here he used 
to spend the summer season in retired and learned leisure. 
Sometimes he engaged in field sports ; but when he did so 
he used to take his tablets for writing with him, so that, as 
he says, in case the game was not plentiful, he might at 
least come home with something. He tells his friend that 
he sometimes supped by the side of a fine polished marble 
basin so artfully contrived that it was always full without 
overflowing, the surface of the water serving as a table, 
the larger dishes being placed round the margin, and the 
smaller ones floating about in the form of little vessels and 
waterfowl. He thus describes the situation of the villa. 
" Though the country abounds with great plenty of water, 
there are no marshes ; for, as it lies upon a rising ground, 
whatever water it receives without absorbing, runs off into 
the Tiber. This river, which winds through the middle of 
the meadows, is navigable only in the winter and spring, at 
which season it transports the produce of the lands to 
Rome ; but its channel is so extremely low in the summer, 
that it scarcely deserves the name of a river ; towards the 
autumn, however, it begins again to renew its claim to that 
title. You could not be more agreeably entertained, than 
by taking a view of the face of this country from the top 
of one of our neighbouring mountains. You would suppose 
that not a real but some imaginary landscape, painted by 
the most exquisite pencil, lay before you : such a har- 
monious variety of objects meets the eye, which way 
soever it turns." 

The political position of Citta di Castello in the Middle 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



3i7 



Ages was similar to that of most of the other Italian cities 
at that time ; that is to say, it was under the feudal rule 
introduced by the Goths and other European nations at 
the destruction of the Roman empire — a military system 
in which the soldier who distinguished himself received 
a territory as the reward of his bravery or success, over 
which he was the recognised ruler, having the power to call 
out the people at any time on military service. These 
feuds or lordships were all subject to the higher authority 
of the sovereign, whose cattanci, or captains, were scattered 
throughout their several dominions for military and po- 
litical ends. Of course this state of things gave rise to 
endless abuses and constantly recurring warfare, producing 
frequent subversions of one rule to another, in which the 
mere adventurer sometimes came in for the best share. In 
the twelfth century, a better system of things partially 
prevailed in the revival, to some extent, of civil rule, in 
the advocacy and furtherance of which the noble-minded 
Arnold of Brescia perished a martyr. The various cities 
attempted to put down the power of their military rulers 
or tyrants, and reduce them to the condition of civilians. 
Hereupon the divisions of interest and ambition were set 
the one against the other ; leagues being frequently entered 
into and almost as frequently broken. Not only were 
there wars between neighbouring cities and territories, but 
within the walls of the same city discord reigned, through 
the domineering of the great and powerful wishing to 
reduce the people to their rule : sometimes two or three 
factions contending for supremacy with each other and 
against the citizens ; though the latter, often enough, took 
part with one or the other side. Neither were the head 
governments better ofT. Embroiled amongst themselves, 
they had little time to give to individual rights and wrongs. 
Bitterness and animosity prevailed everywhere, so that, as 
Borghini said, " Blind Italy divided against itself, con- 
suming itself with its own strength, would destroy the 
beautiful garden of the world." It was this state of things 



3i8 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



that makes the Italian history of this period the most 
intricate and perplexing of that of all Europe ; its endless 
vicissitudes and revolutions being almost impossible to 
follow. 

In the latter half of the fifteenth century Niccolo Vitelli 
contested possession of the city with the pope, who was 
represented by the warlike cardinal, Giuliano della Rovere. 
Niccolo, though at first defeated, afterwards entered the 
city, and was permitted to remain there as ruler on swear- 
ing fidelity to the pope. The Vitelli thenceforward be- 
came principals of the city, retaining their position for long 
afterwards. 

The old chronicles of the city afford some curious 
pictures of mediaeval life. One of these gives a singular 
instance of an antique custom transmitted to more modern 
times. It happened in the year sixteen hundred and 
thirty-two, that a woman of Anastasia, in Valle Urbana, 
had a carbuncle on her chin, which increased so rapidly as 
to cause suspicion that it might be a plague-spot. Without 
having recourse to any other aid, she vowed to St. Florido, 
the patron saint of the city, that she would go to his 
sepulchre and miraculous image, and suspend there the 
clothing she wore ; and so she was healed : thus precisely 
following the ancient custom of suspending the garments 
in the temple of a god after extreme danger, as of ship- 
wreck. As Horace mockingly says after his emancipation 
from the charms of the wily Pyrrhus — 

Me in my vow'd 
Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 
My dank and dropping weeds 
To the stern god of sea.* 

Possibly, also, in the case just mentioned, a pictured or 

* Me tabula sacer 
Votiva paries indicat uvida 
Suspendisse potenti 
Vestimenta maris deo. 

Carm. I. v. 



Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



3i9 



written tablet would commemorate the fact ; thus making 
the resemblance to the ancient custom still more complete. 

A curious entry in the town chronicles under the eleventh 
of March, fifteen hundred and nine, states that the bishop 
confirmed the regulations in regard to women's clothing 
and funerals, disregard of which was to be punished by 
excommunication. The regulation was prescribed by the 
council. Every woman was compelled to be dressed ac- 
cording to the amount of dowry she possessed. Those 
having a hundred and ten florins, or anything less, only 
being allowed to have one gala dress, which was to 
consist of brocade velvet, with a plain skirt of crimson 
joined on to purple. To the peasants cloth , of grain was 
only allowed for trimming, not for dress ; to these also was 
forbidden the use of either gold or silver money. For 
funerals, six florins were allowed for wax candles to doctors 
and officials of the pope ; to all others not more than three 
florins. By a special brief of Julius the second, the Vitelli 
and some others in office were exempted from this regula- 
tion. Still more curious are the sumptuary laws of fifteen 
hundred and sixty-one ; the council prescribing not only 
the dress of the people, but what should be eaten and 
drunk. Jewels were prohibited, as well as gold and silver 
in clothing or adornment, a little being conceded to wives 
of forty, and brides of the first three years. On occasions 
of baptisms, weddings, or initiation into the monastic life, 
the viands were to consist of no more than three courses. 
These regulations were confirmed by a bull of Pius the 
Fourth. 

The description of the taking of the city as given by 
Campano, the biographer of Braccio Fortebracci, is a very 
stirring incident. He says that Braccio came to Citta di 
Castello "and encamping not far from the walls gave the 
inhabitants to understand by a trumpeter, that if they did 
not surrender themselves to him he proclaimed war against 
them. The minds of the Castellani were filled with fear at 
the arrival of Braccio, as in the case of sudden war happens 



3 2 ° 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



to every man, however brave he may be. The banished 
from the city, of whom there were many in the camp of 
Braccio, greatly augmented the fear ; for the Castellani 
had not a sufficient force to defend the city, and they 
saw it was of no use to ask succour of the pope, seeing 
that he had ceded authority to Braccio ; but if they 
should surrender themselves, the banished persons, who for 
a long time had followed the field, would make themselves 
masters of the city. On the other hand should they oppose 
themselves to those who pretended to have a right over 
them, they saw clearly that they would have to suffer all 
the greatest evils that can come of siege, famine, and the 
arms of the enemy." 

In this difficulty the Castellani, who had already begun to 
be disturbed by civil discords, sent ambassadors to Braccio 
to sue for terms of peace ; but the sole conditions upon which 
he would treat with them were that they should give up 
their city entirely to his rule, upon which he promised, that 
he would not only forbear to interfere with their property 
and claims as citizens, but that he would identify their own 
rights and interests with his own. Whilst the Castellani 
were deliberating upon these proposals with much difference 
of opinion, the season of harvest was fast passing, all labour 
being quite suspended, thus threatening them with famine 
in case of siege. At last they attempted to purchase an 
immunity from their enemy by offering him the tribute or 
subsidy of five thousand ducats the year, on condition that 
he would leave them their freedom. To this offer they 
joined the most earnest entreaties, submitting that their 
friendship would be of more value than their servitude, and 
that though this payment would be made with the greatest 
difficulty they would rather suffer it than lose the name of 
liberty which they had so long held dear. Braccio, know- 
ing that the besieged must soon begin to feel the pangs - of 
famine and that they had little hope of foreign help, refused 
their money, designating their former submission to the 
papal rule as neither more nor less than a servitude already 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



321 



suffered, adding much more which was rather in accordance 
with his wishes than to their satisfaction. 

When the Castellani found that their embassy had suc- 
ceeded so unsatisfactorily they came to the conclusion to 
hold on the siege whatever might be the result ; Braccio in 
the meanwhile fortifying his position and giving out that 
whoever issued from the gates should be taken prisoner. 
At this juncture the soldiers of Braccio began to cut down 
the olives and destroy the vineyards in the neighbourhood 
of the city ; burning the villages, sacking the houses, and 
devastating the whole country. But the Castellani gave 
themselves every hour with more diligence to maintain the 
garrison, storing the walls, towers, and other - places with 
stones and arms for their defence, and though not without 
grave fears as to the result, they appeared to make light 
of it before the enemy. When Braccio saw this he sent 
to Perugia for more soldiers and five pieces of artillery. 
Between citizens and peasants the Castellani numbered five 
thousand infantry, some of them bowmen, but the greater 
portion, clad in breastplates and bearing shields, were 
formidable from the various weapons they bore, of which 
their many civil strifes had taught them the skilful use. The 
arrival of the troops from Perugia added more to the fears 
of the besieged than to the hopes of Braccio, who was 
unwilling to risk the flower of his army on the doubtful 
issue of a dangerous siege : these Perugians being accus- 
tomed, as the historian says, to running, jumping, and the 
use and management of horses, almost as soon as they 
were born ; they were also in the habit of fighting frequent 
duels, and even in times of peace were well practised in the 
use of arms and the government of war. Their very 
bravery or temerity, even, was an embarrassment to Braccio, 
who had to restrain them from the almost certain sacrifice 
of their lives to their daring. The desire, however, not to 
lose the opportunity of gaining possession of the city at 
last overbore other considerations, so that he was finally 
induced to make an attack upon it. For this purpose he 

Y 



322 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



caused an immense machine of wood in the form of a 
testudo to be raised to as great a height as possible, and 
having filled it with veteran soldiers caused it to be drawn 
to the walls in the vicinity of the tower which stood above 
the gate of the city. He also drew up two pieces of 
artillery in front of the tower, placing wings of crossbowmen 
on either side for the assault ; Perugian infantry being 
distributed about the fortifications with ladders, having 
orders to be prepared to scale the walls and enter the city 
whilst the Castellani were occupied in defending the tower. 
No sooner had the attack commenced than the Castellani 
on the walls, dismayed at the number of the enemy and 
their formidable appearance, began to deplore their ill- 
fortune, as if the city had been already taken. The panic 
quickly spread itself, so that presently, instead of defending 
the city, every one was seeking safety in flight and conceal- 
ment. The gates were opened, some of the principal 
persons being delivered up as hostages to the conqueror. 

Leaving Citta di Castello, the river traverses a vast plain 
with sloping hills on the left, crowned with several picturesque 
towns and mediaeval fortresses./, This plain is very fertile 
and well-cultivated. Long rows of young maple or elm 
(" amicta vitibus ulmo ") support festoons of enwreathing 
vines. Here and there shady lanes run underneath the 
boughs of umbrageous oaks which throw down deep black 
shadows in the glaring sunshine. At the foot of the hills 
to the left the river runs, a small stream in its white dusty 
bed. Presently we came to a little village called San 
Giustino, where the driver, wishing to regale his horses, 
advised us to stop an hour, which, he told us, might be 
pleasantly occupied in looking over an old mediaeval castle 
which had been adapted as a modern residence. We had 
no reason to regret this arrangement, as the old place was 
exceedingly interesting. The castle consisted of sturdy 
walls surmounted by towered battlements, surrounded by 
a dried-up moat. Along one side a very gracefully con- 
structed open gallery passed with arches supported on 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



323 



elegantly-shaped columns. A lofty clock-tower commanded 
splendid views of the whole valley, with its varied culture 
and sparkling villages half embosomed in trees or perched 
on the mountain heights. The castle was surrounded 
with quaint gardens, containing an abundance of lemon 
trees with their golden fruit glowing amongst the rich 
green leaves. Laurel avenues impervious to the sun, and 
long alleys of fantastically-clipped box carried the mind back 
to the times of hoop and patch and further still. A maze 
of thick close hedges, in which the gardener in vain tried 
to cause us to lose ourselves, thanks to V.'s talent for 
geography, whom I took care to follow closely, completed 
the old-world fashion of the place. The interior of this 
enchanted abode did not contain much more than some very 
fine mural decorations and a few good family portraits, as 
the owner, it appeared, seldom or never resided there. For 
the rest, a great proportion of the rooms was entirely 
occupied by silkworms. Ample sheets were hung up, upon 
which were deposited myriads of variously-tinted eggs. 
Large frames were also placed about containing trays or 
shelves, upon which were numberless moths just emerged 
from the cocoon or worms spinning themselves into it. The 
whole place, indeed, was peopled with these little crea- 
tures, doubtless a source of considerable revenue to their 
owner. 

Following the road from this place we were struck with 
the number of wayside shrines and black crosses to which 
were nailed the symbols of the passion of our Lord, as the 
nails, spear, sponge, etc., doubtless the relics of the time 
when the road was traversed by pilgrims to the holy 
sepulchre. Presently we entered the arched gateway of 
Borgo San Sepolcro. 

Borgo San Sepolcro is a quaint little town surrounded 
by walls with bastions at the angles. It had a very curious 
origin. There was once a rocky mound here which stood 
in the midst of a vast forest, upon which the snow lay so 
thick and long that it was named Nevia. Here some 



324 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI 



pilgrims from the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem in the tenth 
century, wearied with much journeying stopped to repose ; 
and as they slept by a fountain they received a divine 
command in a dream to build a church on the spot. Ac- 
cordingly gathering together what they could, they formed 
a little chapel, in which they deposited the relics they had 
brought with them from the Holy Land. To this place 
the people of the surrounding country resorted for purposes 
of devotion, and from time to time built houses there, which 
at last formed a town, taking its name from the circum- 
stances that had given it birth. The Calmaldolese monks 
afterwards founded an abbey there, owning a great part of 
the territory ; but the inhabitants shook off their dependence 
in the thirteenth century, and torn by factions, joined the 
Aretini. Their town passed subsequently under the rule of 
the bishops of Arezzo, the Visconti, and Fortebraccio, by 
whom it was given to the pope, and finally became subject 
to that of Florence. 

One of the chief attractions of Borgo is its numerous 
and beautiful works of art. It was the birthplace of Pietro 
della Francesca, and contains some of his finest paintings. 
Pietro was a remarkable man in more respects than one. 
Vasari says he was the first geometrician of his time. He 
wrote many books. At the age of sixty, twenty-six years 
before he died, he became blind. We may imagine what a 
loss his sight must have been to him. His works are of 
the very noblest order. There is an unaffected tenderness 
and sweetness in his angels and female figures not even 
reached by Pietro Perugino ; their loveliness is that of 
innocence and youth ; they can be scarcely called abstrac- 
tions, and yet one hardly knows where to match their 
flower-like grace and sweet spiritual bearing in the world 
of fact. His finest work is in the Monte di Pieta. It is a 
fresco of the Resurrection. The Saviour leaves the tomb 
bearing a banner of victory. It is impressive from its 
vigour of treatment and intense originality both in con- 
ception and execution. It is also painted in a fine key of 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



325 



colour peculiarly its own. Altogether it gives a perfectly 
new impression of an over-familiar subject in art. 

As we strolled about in the evening we came upon the 
pallone ground, just outside and against the walls of the 
city. As this is the national game of Italy, it may be 
worth while to describe it for those who have not seen it. 

It is played upon a ground measuring about two hundred 
and fifty feet in length, and about sixty wide : always with 
a high wall on one side. The players are three at a side. 
They generally wear a thin close-fitting garment. On 
their right hand a large oval covering of wood is fixed 
endwise, which is grooved into raised squares diminishing 
upwards. The balls are of hide, well oiled. They are 
hollow, being filled by an air-pump, when in use, and 
closed by a valve. The player about to strike the ball in 
the first instance stands at the top of an inclined plank, 
opposite to the deliverer of the ball, who faces him at some 
yards distance. The striker then runs down the plank, at 
the same time the bowler makes a few steps forward, 
delivering the ball at the right moment, which, being struck, 
gains great impetus, flying the whole length of the ground. 
It is then to be kept up within assigned limits from one 
side to the other as long as possible. It is a game of very 
considerable excitement ; the animation being sometimes 
increased by the ball flying amongst the spectators, whose 
ducking and running do not always prevent them from 
receiving an ugly blow. 

As we followed our evening walk by the border of the 
fields, V. and I were much amused by the roundabout way 
a man bestowed maledictions upon a refractory pig which 
of course would go every way but the one desired. After 
vainly attempting to drive it in the direction he wished, the 
man sat down wiping his forehead, exclaiming with great 
vehemence, Accidente a chi ti voglia bene ! (May an apoplexy 
seize him who wishes you well !) A form of adjuration in- 
tended to convey unutterable things to the swine, whose mere 
friend and well-wisher was to suffer so terrible a misfortune. 



326 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



From Borgo San Sepolcro the river flows through scenery 
of the same character as before : grey villages on the cliffs, 
old castles occupying the heights. As we passed along 
the road the landscape was enlivened by bands of happy 
girls reaping in the fields, protected from the sun by broad- 
brimmed straw hats. Presently the prospect opened into a 
level plain in which the bed of the river was expanded into 
the form of the lake, but not a drop of water was visible. 
When we reached this spot I heard a suppressed chuckling 
in the interior of the carriage (I was sitting with the driver) 
which presently exploded into fits of hearty laughter. It 
seems B. and the others had been watching their opportunity 
for a joke until the little feeble stream which had hitherto 
occupied the bed of the river should vanish altogether ; at last 
it came. " Where is the venerable old man seated amongst 
the sedges," they asked, tauntingly, "with the water-pot 
discharging copious streams, which you promised to show 
us ? Where are the nymphs, naiades, and other inhabitants 
of the sacred flood ?" On my explaining the cause of their 
merriment to the driver, however, he reassured me. " Non 
abbia paura, signore" said he, il fra poco la ritroveremo " 
— Never fear, sir, we shall find it again presently — adding 
that the scanty stream had been diverted temporarily from 
its proper course for the purpose of turning some mills, and 
sure enough we shortly came on it again, though in no 
great quantity. 

A few miles beyond, the river passes through a deep 
artificial cutting, made with much labour in eighteen hun- 
dred and fifty-five, when an enormous landslip choked up 
the bed of the stream, which immediately rose in conse- 
quence to so great a height that the inhabitants had to 
flee the neighbouring little town of Pieve Santo Stefano, 
which remained a long time under water with all the 
adjacent country. Now the signs of the misfortune are no 
longer seen, but a bit of white marble let into the wall of 
the church near the roof shows how severe and disastrous 
it must have been. 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



327 



Pieve Santo Stefano is a homely little town running along 
the river, in a fertile country, deriving its chief support from 
corn and grain. The day of our arrival was a market day, 
so that the little place was full of business and animation. 
The country people had assembled from all the surround- 
ing districts, the women wearing broad-brimmed Tuscan 
hats and the young rustic gallants tricked out in their best. 
Many a little romantic gossip did we observe going on 
between the young girls and their sweethearts, or would be 
sweethearts, whilst their mothers and fathers were occupied 
in cheapening purchases or vending their wares — not as 
Englishmen buy and sell, but with infinite gesticulation 
and a storm of talk. Perhaps the only opportunity for 
lovers to meet each other who live widely apart may be on 
such occasions as these, when acquaintances are formed, 
and for the most part prosecuted. This is the last town 
situated on the Tiber, or the first from its source. Thence- 
forward for leagues all is mountainous desolation or hardly- 
won culture ; the scattered groups of houses found here and 
there on its course scarcely deserving the name of villages. 

Numerous ravines run from the river here amongst the 
mountains, each with its half hidden rillet at the bottom, 
clear and unstained as a naiad's mirror. In the evening 
V. and I explored one of these little streams, sketch-book 
in hand, through all its crinkly bays and miniature falls, a 
tiny tributary to the waters of Old Father Tiber. 

We had here reached the last stage but one of our 
journey. Pieve Santo Stefano is but about twenty miles 
from the source of the Tiber. We engaged the services of 
the son of the landlord of the little inn at which we were 
stopping — which, by the way, was an ■ excellent one in a 
simple rural fashion — as organiser of the expedition ; and 
we had reason to congratulate ourselves in having done so ; 
for Tomaso, besides being a cheerful, well-looking, fine- 
spirited fellow, knew all the country round to the extent of 
at least a day's journey. As the whole way lay entirely 
amongst the Apennines, and was of the most rugged 



328 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



description, without roads, and, in some places, scarcely 
the semblance of a path, the only mode of accomplishing 
the journey was either on foot or on the backs of asses. 
Engaging a number of these, we started before daylight. 
As we did so my own mind was filled with the anticipations 
of an object accomplished which had long been present 
with me. I realised the feelings of a pilgrim when all the 
interests, hopes, and sentiments that have accompanied his 
journey crowd upon his soul in the nearness of the goal of 
his wishes. The mountains seemed to gain a large restful 
calm in the glimmering of the dawn, and the heavens to 
smile down in more serious peacefulness, at a purpose well- 
nigh fulfilled ; for thus we clothe the appearances of nature 
with our own moods, and claim her aspects as significant of 
our own feelings ; perhaps they are so. 

Instead of following the upward course of the stream 
Tomaso proposed that we should go a more circuitous route 
amongst the mountains, and then trace it downwards to 
the place we had left in the morning, as the road by the 
immediate banks of the river was so abrupt and broken 
that it would be much more difficult to traverse in this 
direction. To this there could be no reasonable objection. 
The ride (or walk ; for it was as much the one as the other) 
was a most enchanting one. The vast mountains were 
everywhere around us. Sometimes opening into wide 
valleys, sometimes closing into narrow gorges ; sometimes 
our road lay along the craggy back of a desolate hill-top, 
then it would dive into the shadowy recesses of a sombre 
wood. When the sun had well risen, hot and bright, we arrived 
at a little mountain farmhouse, with goats browsing about, 
at the door of which was suspended a leavy branch, the old- 
fashioned " bush " that indicates the sale of wine. I pro- 
posed that we should stop a few moments and refresh 
ourselves, which we did ; a most extravagant charge being 
demanded for the same. As we again pursued our way, 
Tomaso came to me mysteriously, saying that he had been 
told, at the place we had just left, that two malviventi 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



329 



(brigands) had been there the previous day, and that 
there was a band of thirteen lurking in the forest into 
which we had to penetrate to find the source of the 
river. This was not very cheering ; for although we 
were not without arms, even if we should be able to use 
them, they might not avail against such odds. Presently 
we gained a lofty ridge overlooking a vast valley or basin 
surrounded with rocks tumbled about in the wildest 
confusion. It was bounded on the one side by a vast 
range of mountain called Le Baize, the greater part of it 
covered with a dense forest in which was to be found the 
object of our journey. At the foot of this mountain was a 
church and a group of a few rude houses, dignified with the 
name borne by the mountain. Hither Tomaso escorted us. 
It was about the hour of noon. We were soon surrounded by 
every man, woman, and child in the place. Hot, wearied, 
and dusty, as we all were, my friends, not unreasonably, 
resigned themselves to the prospect of a good rest and a 
refreshing meal ; their astonishment being great when I 
proposed to set off immediately in search of the object of 
our pilgrimage. In vain I argued and enforced, until at 
last I was obliged to confess that as Tomaso had been told 
that there was a band of brigands in the woods, I did not 
consider it prudent to remain long enough for it to be 
noised abroad that four Englishmen were about to enter 
their precincts, but that if we went immediately there was 
less danger of being molested, as we heard that they were 
at some distance from the spot where we were wishing to go, 
lying in wait for a landowner of the district. This being 
confirmed by the people of the place, my friends all agreed 
that, tired and heated as we were, it would be better to go 
at once. 

Accordingly an old man undertook to be our guide. By 
the side of the little stream which here constitutes the first 
vein of the Tiber, we penetrated the wood. It was an 
immense beech-forest, perhaps some part of it virgin to the 
tread of man. The trees were almost all great gnarled 



330 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



veterans, which had borne the snows of many winters : now 
they stood basking above their blackened shadows in the 
blazing sunshine. The little stream tumbled from ledge to 
ledge of splintered rock (here a limestone in which small 
nummulites and other organic remains are visible) some- 
times creeping into a hazel thicket green with long ferns 
and soft moss, and then leaping once more merrily into the 
sunlight. Presently it split into numerous little rills. We 
followed the longest of these. It led us to a carpet of 
smooth green turf amidst an opening of the trees ; and 
there, bubbling out of the green sod, embroidered with 
white strawberry blossoms, the delicate blue of the cranes- 
bill and dwarf willow herb, a copious little stream arose. 
Here the old man paused, and resting upon his staff, raised 
his age-dimmed eyes, and pointing to the gushing water, 
said, " E qitesto si chiama il Tevere a Roma /" (And this 
is called the Tiber at Rome.) My mind was filled with 
emotion. The baby river ! It was like being present at 
the birth of one who should alter and control the destiny of 
the world. It was as if all the incidents of the long journey 
were focussed at this point. The whole history and asso- 
ciations of the stream arose within me with a crushing 
sensation of overpowering vastness, from the first settle- 
ment founded on its banks, through the grandeur of the 
lordly Rome of Augustus, to the modern ecclesiastical city. 
I thought of the many lives that had been lived out on its 
banks, and the many battles that had been fought there. 
I thought of the lands it passed through : the low-lying 
marshes of Ostia, the solemn undulating Campagna, the 
sunny mountains and valleys of Umbria, the spreading 
fields of corn, vine, and olive, the towering cities, the quiet 
homesteads, the rocky nooks and fastnesses in its course, 
and the mighty influence its denizens had had in the history 
of mankind and civilisation. All were brought before me, 
as drowning men are said to see the whole course of their 
lives at an instant. We stooped and drank of the cool clear 
water where it first saw the light. We reverently gathered 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



33i 



some of the flowers that bent above its little basin ; and 
then we went away. I with the words still ringing in my 
ears, " And this is called the Tiber at RomeJ," 

As we followed the stream in its downward course I 
half regretted not having" sat down to make some record 
with my pencil of a spot almost sacred to me. But, indeed, 
I could not have settled my mind to such a task at that 
moment. Besides, the immediate source offered nothing 
for the pencil to seize. It was but a carpet of soft green 




NEAR THE SOURCE OF THE TIBER. 



grass in an opening of the wood out of which the clear 
stream welled. Some such regrets must have been felt by 
my artist friends ; for when we had reached the point where 
the little streams flow together, V. and B. looked about 
wistfully, and then sitting under the shade of one of the 
oldest of the beeches that twisted its contorted trunk as if in 
pain, they made me two precious drawings, though we were 
not without some kind of nervousness at the delay so near 
the haunts of the lawless troop of malviventi. We were not 



332 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. XI. 



molested, however, and we soon had the satisfaction of sitting 
down to a good hearty meal with an hour's quiet rest after it. 

The mountain upon which the Tiber takes its rise is but 
a part of a larger and more elevated chain, the highest 
point of which is called Monte Fumajolo, which bounds one 
side of a vast irregular basin of limestone rocks, whose 
romantic peaks lift themselves in sublime majesty around. 
It is here that the Apennine range, after gradually trending 
eastwards from the junction of the Nar, makes its nearest 
approach to the Adriatic. Indeed the Marecchia, which 
falls into the Adriatic at Rimini, has its source very near to 
that of the Tiber ; so that the spot must be about the apex, 
of the watershed. The miniature republic of San Marino 
and, I believe, the town of Rimini itself are to be seen from 
the more elevated summits in clear weather. 

As we left the place, the afternoon shadows were begin- 
ning to lengthen on the broken slopes ; but long before 
the evening red had transformed the splintered pinnacles 
into pillars of living gold, we lost sight of the miserable 
osteria with its friendly loiterers, the quiet church nestled 
amongst the hills, and the smiling patches of green field 
in our downward journey. 

Our return road lay on the banks and sometimes in the 
bed of the river. We followed the stream from the spot 
where it issued out of the beech forest, over barren spurs of 
the mountains crested with fringes of dark pine, down to a 
lonely and desolate valley, shut in by dun and misty blue 
peaks. Then we entered the portals of a solemn wood 
with grey trunks of trees everywhere around us and im- 
penetrable foliage above our heads, the deep silence only 
broken by fitful songs of birds. To this succeeded a blank 
district of barren shale, cleft into great gullies by many a 
wintry torrent. Presently we found ourselves at an enor- 
mous height above the river upon the ledge of a precipice 
which shot down almost perpendicularly on one side to the 
bed of the stream. This spot, we were told, was called La 
Balza della Donna (The Woman's Rock) from a woman 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



333 



having once thrown herself down from it ; but whether it 
was through 

" Amor ch' a null' amato amar perdona," 

(" Love which brooks not disregard "), or from some less 
romantic cause, our guides were unable to inform us. A 
little past this place we came upon a veiy singular and 
picturesque spot. It was an elevated rock shut within 
a deep dim gorge, about which the river twisted, almost 
running round it. Upon this rock were built a few 
gloomy-looking houses and a quaint old-world mill. It 
was reached from the hither side by a widely-spanning one- 
arched bridge. It was called Val Savignone. The ima- 
gination of a Dore could suggest nothing ■ more wildly 
desolate than this romantic little fastness with the stream 
murmuring round it, the vast peaks rising above it, shut out 
from all excepting the sun for a few hours at midday and 
the stars at night. What it must be in the winter, when 
the shallow waters of the summer season are changed to 
raging torrents which fill the bed of the stream and roar at 
the base of the rock as if to tear it down, and the heavens 
pour their surcharged floods upon it from above, may be 
partly imagined. We were sorry to have to pass by this 
place without the opportunity of even a hasty drawing ; but 
as the day was fast passing and we had still many miles 
before us, we were obliged to leave its solitudes unrecorded. 
Henceforwards we chiefly followed the bed of the river. 
At Balsciano, a small village perched upon the cliffs, the 
hills began to subside. As we passed the steep ac- 
clivity upon which the village stands, we were greatly 
amazed and amused to see some goats running and 
skipping down what appeared to be almost like the surface 
of a perpendicular wall of rock. They seemed to be sup- 
ported on nothing, and though the shale followed them 
in loose fragments at every turn, not one of them made a 
false step. Presently these heights declined, and we found 
ourselves between easy slopes, which led us through paths 
of willow and dwarf poplar, once more to our temporary 



334 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



domicile at Pieve Santo Stefano,*but not before the crescent 
moon showed a pale disk, and the stars were sparkling like 
diamonds in the sky. 

A few miles distant from Pieve Santo Stefano, towards 
Borgo San Sepolcro, the Singerna empties itself into the 
Tiber. It was in a hamlet upon its banks that Michael 
Angelo was born — a place which appears to be but vaguely 
known to his biographers. This we determined to visit ; 
but instead of following the course of the river, Tomaso 
proposed to take us across country to Caprese (the name of 





CAPRESE. 



the memorable spot). The next day we arranged to do 
this ; H., who was somewhat fatigued with our long journey 
of the previous day, agreeing to go with the carriage on the 
high road to Borgo, and await us at a certain spot, where 
we proposed to rejoin him in the evening. We accordingly 
set out with a relay of asses, under the charge of Tomaso 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



335 



and their owner, a bluff country fellow who minded his 
business, but had no words to throw away. After a few 
hours' journey we reached the Singerna as it wound its 
willow-fringed way through an open recess of the hills, the 
conical elevation upon which Caprese is situated rising on 
the farther side of it. As we sat down to sketch, the sun 
began to slope downwards, throwing soft grey shadows in 
the mellowing sunshine. We then climbed the hills, scram- 
bling over volcanic cinders and amongst the disordered 
fragments of the torrent-ploughed road. At last we gained 
the summit, and we were amply repaid for our labours, if 
there had been nothing more than the fine view which there 
met us. Beneath us lay an unlevel plain bounded by the 
broken summits of the Apennine range. At the foot of the 
elevation upon which we stood the river wound through its 
bed of white boulders, bordered with poplars at intervals, 
a faint murmur of which just reached our ears. There were 
no more than a few miserable houses on its summit, the 
highest portion of which contained nothing but the remains 
of a ruined castle, the old municipal building in which 
Michel Angelo was born, and a little modern chapel. As 
the person who had the key of the communal chambers 
was down below at his agricultural labours in the valley, we 
despatched a messenger to him, and besides that, commenced 
to ring the chapel bell, the sound of which went booming 
across the valley until it died in the echoes of the hills. 
Presently the holder of the keys came and opened the door 
of the building for us. The outside was partly covered 
with stone tablets, upon which were sculptured initials, 
coats of arms, or other devices of the various syndics or 
governors of the district, some of them quite obliterated by 
time and weather. In vain I sought one bearing any device 
of the Buonarroti. Besides these there was a modern white 
marble slab let into the wall commemorating the formation 
of the kingdom of Italy under Victor Emmanuel. The house 
is built of good solid stone masonry, consisting of three 
rooms and a garret on the second floor, which generally 
constitutes the habitable portion of an Italian house. On 



336 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



the ground floor there are some cells giving out of a central 
chamber which look as if they might have been formed for 
prisons. The chamber in which Michel Angelo was born 
is about twenty-six feet long by seventeen broad. It is 
entered by a simple arched doorway and is lighted by a 
little oblong window. Over the doorway of this chamber is a 
rude modern inscription in distemper, which, translated, runs 
as follows : " Here was born the immortal Michel Angelo 
Buonarotti in the year one thousand four hundred and 
seventy-four. He lived eighty-nine years and died in 
Rome in the year one thousand five hundred and sixty- 
four." In the year of Michel Angelo's birth, his father, who 
was a man of name and note in Florence, was appointed 
podesta or governor of Caprese and Chiusi, and accordingly 
removed hither with his wife, who here gave birth to her 
second child, the illustrious artist. They only remained 
here a year, after which, their term of office being expired, 
they returned to Florence. 

The sun was fast sinking to his fall as we descended the 
hill of Caprese, and we had still a dozen miles of journey 
before we could reach the place where H. would be already 
awaiting us. As we had to follow the bed of the river the 
whole distance, we were obliged to keep on our donkeys 
if we wished to retain dry feet, as the stream had to be 
continually forded in its crossings from one side to the 
other ; the bed being much wider than the space occupied 
by the stream. It was a most uneasy journey for the poor 
brutes that bore us, the boulders and pebbles being of all 
sizes, so that every step was an uncertain one. It offered 
many charmingly picturesque turns. Sometimes bordered 
with soft pastoral slopes, and sometimes hung with great 
plumes of sombre foliage. Once or twice, on the spreading 
shoals, herds of white oxen came down to drink, grouping 
themselves in the most picturesque manner under the trees. 
Presently the daylight died quite away and the bright stars 
came out above us, as we pursued our way in silence, our 
rustic guide dimly seen stalking in front of us, answering 
every question in monosyllables, or not at all, never once 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 



337 



turning to look behind him. One little episode impressed 
itself strongly on my mind. We had left the bed of the 
stream for a little distance, and were treading our way 
along one of its banks. Tall trees were arched above us, 
through which the bright stars twinkled by fits. Bats flew 
hither and thither ; whilst the night-moth dashed by through 
the night which was his day : the owl at intervals giving 
forth his solemn whoop. The seclusion, the stillness, the un- 
certain glimmer of light, the soft sense of luxury and beauty 
diffused around, filled the mind with the most soothing reflec- 
tions, recalling all the romance and tenderness of "youth 
and buried time." 

At last, as the river bed opened into a broader estuary, 
we descried the lights of the Madonnina, or Lesser Madonna 
— for such was the name given to a few houses on the road 
where the Singerna flows into the Tiber, from a small 
shrine of the Madonna existing there. Here we found H. 
awaiting us with some anxiety. Dismissing our rustic 
guide and Tomaso, with whom we parted with a hearty 
shaking of hands, we were presently on our way to Borgo 
San Sepolcro, where we arrived to a welcome supper before 
midnight. 

The next day on our way to Arezzo, the nearest point 
of the railway, Ave crossed the river near Anghiara, at the 
site of a celebrated battle, some account of which will close 
our historical records of the classic stream. The engage- 
ment took place on the twenty-ninth of June, one thousand 
four hundred and forty, between Piccinino, commander of the 
Milanese army, and the Florentines under Giovanni Paolo 
Orsini. The circumstances are thus given in Baldeschi's 
life of Piccinino.* 

* There is also a rhymed account of this battle in the Magliabecchian 
Library at Florence, which has some spirited passages. This for example : 

E si vedean gli elmetti sfavillare 
Pe' colpi delle accette e mazze forti : 
Ognun fa prova di quel che sa fare, 
Come poltron non voglion esser morti : [Carone 

Z ' 



338 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



" When Piccinino with his Lombardese soldiers stood in 
front of Citta di Castello, hearing that Francesco Sforza 
was ravaging Lombardy with fire and sword and had ap- 
proached the very gates of Milan, the latter were very 
anxious to return thither in defence of their homes and 
countries. With great difficulty Piccinino quieted them 
under the promise of a speedy return, but in the mean- 
time determined to attack the enemy, who were near to 
Anghiara ; and " with this design," the historian says, " issu- 
ing secretly from his position with several horsemen (a good 
part of the night still remaining) went to reconnoitre their 
camp. The day following, having commanded his soldiers 
to be prepared to march at an early hour, he came to 
Borgo, leaving his baggage, and making known his design 
to the officers of his regiment, afterwards despatching his 
son Francesco in advance with two companies of horse who 
were on guard that day. No sooner had this been done 
than he prepared to follow, calculating that as it was the 
festival of St. Peter and the day already far advanced, the 
discipline of the camp would be relaxed, and that, taking 
them by surprise, he would have little difficulty in routing 
them. In this he would not have been disappointed if 
Micheletto, the captain of the cavalry, had not anticipated 
the danger, for whilst a part of the soldiers, half unarmed, 
sheltered themselves in their tents from the heat of the 
noonday sun, and whilst others, oppressed with food and 
sleep, lay stretched in the shade, he alone, fully armed, had 
set himself the task of going round the camp, which was 
near the walls of Anghiara, and seeing from an elevation 
an unusual cloud of dust in the distance, raised the alarm, 
informing the other captains of the coming of the enemy, 
upon which the whole camp immediately began to arm, 
each having time to rouse himself and exchange a few 

Carone in questo di debbe sudare : 
Ciascun della salute cerca i porti; 
E dov' e men la battaglia divisa 
Quivi si mette Niccolo di Pisa. 



Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 339 



words with his comrades. When all was ready, Micheletto 
went with a company of cavalry and occupied the bridge, 
which was little more than three hundred paces from the 
foot of the hills. Here a stream, running between steep 
banks into the Tiber, divides the plain. At this place 
Micheletto awaited the enemy. When they came up, those 
in advance, seeing the enemy above them, although pre- 
viously bent on the attack, were somewhat cooled, this 
happening out of all their expectations, yet, nevertheless, 
they rushed upon them, and commencing the battle, they at 
first drove them from the bridge to the place they had 
come from, but afterwards, being overcome by the numbers 
that poured upon them from the camp, they . retired by 
degrees towards the bridge. Piccinino, in the meanwhile, 
sending other companies in aid of the first, caused the 
battle to be renewed, the same thing being done on the 
other side. Thus as the one side and the other gave itself 
to reinforce its own party, presently the whole of the troops 
were engaged, a sharp and cruel battle taking place between 
them, neither captains nor soldiers pausing to take breath 
for a moment. So ardently did they fight, that when the 
quarters became too close for the use of lances and 
pikes they fought with their knives. When the battle had 
thus continued with the utmost fury for more than three 
hours the soldiers of Piccinino, both because they were not 
fighting on their own ground and were tired with the 
journey of twelve miles which they had made, and because 
evening now approaching, a wind arose from the hills 
where the enemy was stationed, blowing so much dust into 
their faces and into their eyes as to take, away from them 
both sight and breathing, were obliged to turn their backs 
on their opponents." 

In spite of the poet-chronicler's assertion, that everybody 
wielded a bloody sword (" Ciascuno ha la sua spada in- 
sangirinata "), the historian informs us that " not many were 
killed on either side, but prisoners were made of eighteen 
hundred cavalry and thirteen hundred soldiers of Borgo, 



34o 



THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 



whom Piccinino had enrolled as if for a manifest prey. About 
sixty women whom Niccolo had placed along the road with 
vessels of water to refresh his troops were trampled to 
death with the horses. He saved himself and the remnant 
of his troops by regaining Borgo, laying it altogether upon 
adverse fortune that he had been conquered that day." 



) 



( 34i ) 



L' ADD 10. 

AND now my task is done. As I write this the day 
has once more sloped downwards ; the mountains 
are purple and dark against the sky ; the landscape is 
subdued to a sombre grey ; the oxen are loosed from the 
yoke ; the flocks of sheep go home ; the peasant lays aside 
his labour for repose ; the mechanic leaves his toil ; the 
birds retire to rest. Again comes the solemn hour of 
twilight, the magic time of the south, "when the desire of 
the travelled pilgrim turns towards home, and the softened 
heart is filled with pensive memories of past partings, whilst 
the vesper bell from afar seems to mourn the dying of the 
day." And still the old river flows on to the. sea through 
sunlight and starlight, and will continue to flow when the 
footsteps that now tread its banks shall be stayed upon its 
shores for ever, and new generations rise with new thoughts 
and feelings, as its crumbling monuments and perishing 
memorials slowly sink into oblivion and mingle their many 
memories with the silent dust. Farewell ! 



I N D 



E X. 



ACQUA CETOSA, 128. 

/Emilius Paulus, his triumph, 70. 

Agrippina, 1 14. 

Alexius, St., 46. 

Alfanus, 54. 

Allia, Battle of the, 175. 
Almo River, 27. 
Angelo, St., Castle of, 77. 
Anghiara, Battle of, 337. 
Anguillara, Tower of, 56. 
Anio, the, 130. 

Anna Perenna, Festival of, 125. 

Antemnas, site of, 128. 

Antoninus, M. Aurelius, 79. 

Antoninus Pius, 79. 

Aqua Crabra, 52. 

Aquae Albulae, 135. 

Arnold of Brescia, his martyrdom, 

125. 
Assisi, 290. 
Atys, 10. 

Augustus, tomb of, 107 ; character, 
108 ; death and funeral, no. 

Bagnorea, 231. 
Balsciano, 333. 
Baize, Le, 329. 
Bassano, 229. 

Battle of Stones at Perugia, 287. 
Beffati, the, take Orvieto, 246. 
Berardino di Quillo, 284. 



Bona Dea, her temple, 39. 
Bonaventura, St., 234: 
Borghetto, 214. 
Borgo San Sepolcro, 323. 
Bourbon, Duke of, 92. 
Brennus, 180. 

Buonarotti, Michael Angelo, birth- 
place of, 335. 

Cacus and Hercules, 36. 
Caeso, 33. 

Caius Cestius, pyramid of, 30. 
Caligula, 116. 

Camillus takes Veii, 169; saves 
Rome, 180; treats with Falisci, 
217. 

Campus Martius, Rome, 107. 
Caprese, 334. 
Caracalla, 53, 83. 
Castel Fusano, 19. 
Castel Giubileo, 147. 
Cellini, Benvenuto, imprisonment of, 
96. 

Cerbara, 134. 

Cincinnatus, his farm and story, 32. 

Citta di Castello, 315. 

Civita Castellana, 214. 

Civitella, 254. 

Classic vow, a, 318. 

Claude's Villa, 123. 

Claudia, 39. 



344 



INDEX. 



Claudius, 117. 
Clitumnus River. 300. 
Cloaca Maxima. 55. 
Clodius. 39. 
Clcelia, 51. 
Collatia, 135. 
Commodus. 82. 

Constantine and Maxentius. 144, 
Corbaro. 254. 
Cornelius Cossus, 155. 
Correse (Cures). 213. 
Cremera River. 162, 
Crescentius, 91. 
Crustumerium, 183. 
Cybele and Atys, temple of. 
Ostia, 9. 

D'Este Villa at Tivoli, 141. 
Diruta, 265. 
Dragoncello, 23. 
Drusus, 1 t 5 • 

Ducci Agostino, facade by, 290. 



at 



Ghetto, the, 65. 

Giotto, works of, at Assisi. 294. 
Giovanni, San, Battle of. 281. 
Giuliano della Rovere. 17. 
Giustino. San. 322. 
Gracchus, Caius. 40. 
Gregory the Great. 84. 

Hadrian, Villa of, 136 : tomb of. 77. 
Herbanum, 238. 

Hildebrand, Pope Gregory VII., 44. 
Horatii and Curatii, combat of the, 
150. 

Horatius Codes, 50. 

Island of the Tiber, Rome, 58. 
Isola Sacra, Ostia. 6. 

Jupiter, temple of. at Ostia, 7, 



Euphemian, 46, 

Fabii, the, 167. 

Falerii, 216. 

Farnese Palazzo, 67. 

Farnesina Palazzo, 67. 

,Fiano (Flavinium), 213. 

Ficana, 23. 

Fidense, 147. 

Fiumicino, 6, 20. 

Foiano, Benedetto da, 105. 

Fortebraccio defends Todi. 160; 
takes Perugia, 280: defeats 
Ceccholino, 313: takes Citta 
di Castello, 319. 

Forum Boarium, 52. 

Francis, St., of Assisi. 291. 

Fratta, 312. 

Fumajolo Monte, 332. 

Gardiner, Stephen, letter of, from 

Orvieto, 240. 
Germanicus. 11 4. 



I Keats, John, his tomb and epitaph, 30. 
^ Knights of Malta, the, 43. 

Ladislaus, King, besieges Todi, 260. 
! Leo X., death of, 24. 
Livia. Villa of, 181. 
Lucius Verus, 80. 

Madama Villa, 125. 
Magliana, 23. 
Manlius, Titus, 131. 
Marcellus, 113. 
Marcellus, Theatre of, 64. 
Marcigliana, 183. 
Marcus Aurelius, 79. 
Marozia, 89. 
Matilda. Countess, 63. 
Matteo degli Orsini. vengeance of. 
242. 

Maxentius. 144. 
Mentana, 187. 

Metastasio, birthplace of. 291. 
Michelotti, Biordo, 273. 
Miracle play at Perugia, 285. 
Mithras, temple of. at Ostia. 13. 
Mons Sacer. 132/ 



INDEX. 



345 



Monte Mario, 124. 
Monte Rotondo, 184. 
Monte Testaccio, 32. 
Mucius Scsevola, 51. 

Nar, the, 221. 
Narnia, 221. 
Navalia, the, 32. 
Nero, death of, 146. 
Nerva, 117- 

Nisus and Euryalus. story of, 19- 
N omentum, 187. 
Numa, 37. 



Pons Salarus, 130. 

Pons Sublicius, 50. 

Pons Triumphalis, 69. 

Porano, 237. 

Prima Porta, 181. 

Priorato, Convent of the, 43. 

Procession of virgins on the Aven- 

tine, 42. 
Propertius, birthplace of, 291, 
Protestant cemetery at Rome, 28. 

Rienzo, Cola di, his end, 118. 
j Ripetta, the, 107. 



Octavia, 113. 

Oddi and Baglioni, strifes of the. 269. 

Onofrio. St.. convent of, 68. 

Orte, 224. 

Orvieto, 238. 

Ostia, 6. 

Otho III., 91. 

Otricoli (Ocriculum), 221. 

Ovid, tomb of, 143. 

Paglia, the, 238, 253. 

Pallone, game of, 325. 

Paul's, St., Basilica, near Rome, 25. 

Perugia, 266. 

Perugia, Lake of, 306. 

Perugino, frescoes by, 289. 

Piccinino takes Assisi, 297; is de- 
feated at Anghiara, 338. 

Picus and Faunus, legend of, 37- 

Pietro della Francesca, works of, at 
Borgo, 324- 

Pieve Santo Stefano, 326. 

Pincian Hill, evening on the. 120. 

Platina, 96. 

Pons Alius (Ponte St. Angelo), 76. 
Pons iEmilius (Ponte Rotto), 55. 
Pons Cestius (Ponte St. Bartolo- 
meo),62. 

Pons Fabricius (Ponte de' Quattro 

Capi), 62. 
Pons Janiculensis (Ponte Sisto), 66. 
Pons Milvia (Ponte Molle), 126. 



Sack of Rome, 92. 
Salt-pits of Ostia, 18. 
San Michele, 230. 

San Paolo alle tre fontane. Church 
of, 24. 

San Paolo fuori le Mura, Church 
of, 25. 

Santa Maria di Fallen, 219. 

Santo Spirito, hospital of, 68. 

Saxa Rubra, 143. 

Scorano, 190. 

Septimius Severus, 83. 

Shelley, P. B., his death and burial- 
place, 29. 

Shepherd boy's jest, a, 283. 

Signorelli, Luca, his paintings at 
Orvieto, 249. 

Silva Laurentina, 19. 

Singerna, the, 334. 

Songs, popular, of Tiberine district, 
193. 

Soracte Mons, 212. 
Source of the Tiber, 330. 
Spada Villa, 145. 
Subiaco, 142. 

Sumptuary laws at Citta di Castello, 
319. 

Superstitious character of ancient 
Romans, 41. 

Tasso, last days of, 68. 
Terni. Falls of, 223. 



346 



INDEX. 



Thrasimene, Lake and battle of, 306. 

Tiber, the, its colour, course, and 
tributaries, 1 ; its current, level, 
and floods, 2 ; its associations, 3. 

Tiberius, character and death of, 116. 

Tifernum, 317. 

Tivoli, 137. 

Todi (Tuder), 256. 

Tor di Nona, 107. 



Tor di Valle, 24. 
Triumph, a Roman, 70. 
Tullus Hostilius, 148. 
Tuoro, 310. 

Umbertidi, 312. 

Val Savignone, 333. 
Veii, 162, 
Vitelli, the, 318. 



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